#her actions are just so questionable like she was under a lot of stress so it makes sense

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Movie Mike got mixed signals from Vanessa..

[kerink]

i want to talk about this idea the fandom has that curly didn't do anything to help anya. the fact of the matter is, curly didn't do anything to help anya on screen.

when we first join the conversation, anya's already told curly about the assault and is just updating him on her pregnancy status. we're never privy to what that first conversation looked like, what anya said or how curly responded or what decisions were made about it. but given that anya confided in him twice more about the situation (that she was pregnant and later that she had told jimmy), i have to assume his response to the initial assault disclosure was sufficient enough in her eyes that she knew she could continue confiding in him.

this exchange reads to me like "what to do about the assault" has been an on-going conversation between them, but curly has limited options to help her. but if he could figure out something to do, he'd do it.

let's look at the options available:

report it to HR. i don't think this option is very viable for a few reasons:

first, pony express doesn't seem to care about its employees. there aren't locks on their bedroom doors, there's only enough food and oxygen to get them from port to port with no emergency allotment, there are more crew than cryopods, they're not allowed to sleep for more than 5 hours a night, etc. i don't think they would have done anything to support her even if they had reported it.

HR may even blame anya for the assault, they may say that it happened because of something she did or did not do. it's her responsibility to take, not theirs.

second:

(thank you to @mudstoneabyss for pointing this one out to me)

curly needs this money because he's considering changing careers, which is likely to result in a pay cut or some amount of time job-hunting without income. swansea has a family back home he needs to provide for. it's daisuke's first year on the job and what a piss-poor welcome a pay cut would be, and he's an intern so the pay cut may be all or most of his salary. jimmy is living in poverty. anya has no savings.

it's entirely possible anya asked curly not to file an HR complaint not only because it would make her financial situation worse, but because she doesn't want to ask him, swansea, and daisuke to literally pay for jimmy's actions.

third:

even if curly did file an HR report he may have been told to do nothing. it's a long trip and they need all hands on deck to make the delivery on time! productivity over employee welfare. it's his job to keep the peace but keep jimmy working.

given how much stress curly's shown to be under, it can be assumed being captain is an extremely taxing job with a lot of both assigned duties and off-book duties. it may not actually be feasible to run the ship without a co-pilot.

maybe all he could do was talk to him.

2. go to the police. are there even police in space? i have to assume so because the alternative poses way too many questions. so there's space police. curly and anya call them and they come to the tulpar and dock on the ship and do an investigation and what happens to that limited food and air supply? the late delivery fee?

i'm a psychologist and my first psychology job was working as a crisis counselor for my county. my primary job was to sit with rape survivors as they had their rape kits done and support them as they made their reports to the police. this may not be true everywhere or across the board or in this dystopia but in my experience the police won't take a rape case seriously, or will have limited options to prosecute, or maybe won't even take the case at all without a rape kit.

so curly and anya call the police. they're going to have to file with HR too, to let the company know what's going on. and now anya has to pay for an HR complaint, a late delivery, and a rape kit.

is she going to get this paycheck at all?

3. curly acts on his own accord. this is the one that makes the least amount of sense to me, personally.

if curly just beats the shit out of jimmy then what? now jimmy's mad and embarrassed and takes it out on anya. we're going to confront him and risk making her suffering worse?

curly can't lock jimmy in his quarters for the duration of the trip not only because, as i said, maybe having a co-pilot is necessary for the ship to operate, but there are not locks on the doors.

curly can't lock him in the cargo hold because a) pony express would probably be beyond pissed off about that and who knows if the crew's pay would get docked or curly would get fired or if dragonbreath would sue them all for property damage and contamination. b) how do we get food and water to him? let him go to the bathroom? we open the doors and he busts out and who knows how violent he'll be then.

curly isn't going to kill him because a) that's one of his oldest friends, and i don't care what he's done or how angry curly is or how badly he wants to help anya, i really don't think it's realistic to think he'd be able to separate the anger from the love enough to end his life. b) it's cold-blooded, premeditated murder. it'd be one thing if curly caught jimmy in the act and killed him in defense of anya, he could maybe get away with that. but after the event is over? curly's going to jail for that, possibly for the rest of his life. if you worked at the post office and a coworker told you your best friend since childhood raped her are you clocking out and going to his house and killing him? it's not reasonable. i'm also just really floored how often i've seen this option brought up on the "prison reform abolish the police no matter how bad you are you still deserve human rights" website.

i also don't think it's reasonable, realistic, or kind to ask curly to act on his own accord without consulting anya. for curly to go against her wishes or act without her consent, that's further taking agency away from her. that's another man deciding what happens in her life. even if curly wanted to beat jimmy up or lock him away or kill him, maybe anya asked him not to.

so i ask, what was curly supposed to do? what did he and anya explore as options? what did anya ask him to do? we don't know and we'll never know. and that was intentional on wrong organ's part.

i don't say any of this to discount or discredit conversations or explorations or analyses about the role The Boys Club, toxic masculinity, and bro culture play into the plot, themes, narrative, or personal take-away players have. i fully 100% agree with, support, and endorse those narrative because despite everything i just said above, it's also true that curly is partially responsible.

it's true that he was irresponsible and an enabler for helping jimmy cheat on his psych exam, but there's no evidence at all that he's a conspirator to sexual assault and abuse, that he was going to cover for jimmy in a court of law. all he said was they would figure it out, and that could mean a whole lot of things.

i think curly has some percentage of the blame for what happened on the tulpar, i just don't think that percentage is as large of a number as a lot of people seem to believe. i'm not asking that we forgive or apologize or absolve curly, what i am asking is that we try to look at the situation with more nuance and empathy and good faith.

i don't think curly was a bad man or a bro who was ignoring anya and covering for jimmy's actions. but i also don't think he did enough to help her. he was never good at seeing the small details amongst the larger picture. he couldn't see jimmy for the dead pixel he was.

i think curly was sleep deprived, possibly under-fed, definitely overworked, and juggling too many balls with not enough options. i think he made the wrong choice, but i think he thought it was the lesser of the evils.

[girlgenius1111]

talk more

alexia is stressed upon return to the international stage after her knee issues. she has the most aggressive game of her life against you, and you end up injured. you're both not telling each other how much you're really struggling.

this contains a completely made up and illogical game, don't come at me

cw: contains descriptions of a panic attack

-----

Alexia was on edge, even more so than she had been when you'd left your shared apartment a week ago for England camp. She'd gone to Spain's camp, both of you preparing with your respective teams for the upcoming nations league matches.

Alexia was back from her persistent knee issues, with something to prove. You knew how your girlfriend's mind worked, and you knew she was putting a lot of emphasis on this game. It was why she'd been distant the past week, why she was avoiding eye contact with you as you both stood in the tunnel, preparing to go out onto the pitch.

You hadn't mentioned your own problems when you'd spoken briefly to her over the phone. They seemed inconsequential compared to hers. You were exhausted, incredibly stressed, and you felt like responsibility for the whole team rested on your shoulders, what with Millie and Leah both out. You and Mary had stepped up, and the weight of trying to live up to your captains' was crushing. Alexia did this all the time, though, you reminded yourself. There was nothing to complain about. Once this game was over, she would relax, and so would you.

As you walked out onto the pitch, you ignored the pang of hurt when Alexia didn't even glance her way. It was time to play, time to win, not time to worry about your girlfriend ignoring you. Soon, though, you were worried not just for her, but for everyone else on the pitch. Alexia was playing aggressively, and for the most part it was paying off for her. The ref was being incredibly inconsistent with calling fouls and giving cards, something Alexia was taking advantage of. After she practically shoved Tooney to the ground on a corner, you spoke up, annoyed with how reckless she was acting.

"Cool it, Alexia. You're gonna hurt someone." You said quietly, as you briefly jogged past her. She just looked at you, mouth still pressed into a hard line, barely acknowledging that you'd spoken. You sighed, knowing it was just a matter of time before she was the reason someone had to go off.

You didn't expect it to be you. In Alexia's defense, it was a mostly clean tackle. She caught your ankle, yes, but she had touched the ball first, making it clean. Your ankle crumpled under you, though, and you collapsed to the pitch in crumpled heap with a cry of pain. Alexia stood, looking down at you, horrified, as if only now just realizing the consequences of your actions.

She was shoved out of the way by your teammates, who quickly made their way to your side. She didn't go far, though, looking on, distraught, as your teammates called out for the physios, and you writhed on the ground in agony.

They appeared, asking you questions, and Alexia thought she was going to throw up when they called for a stretcher. How had she done that to you? What was wrong with her?

She stepped closer, hesitantly, trying to get your attention, whether to apologize or beg for forgiveness, she wasn't sure.

"Amor," she asked quietly. Your eyes flew to her above you, and your gaze hardened.

"No, Alexia. Go away." You said through gritted teeth.

"Okay. Lo siento, amor. Lo lamento." she said, backing up and chewing insistently on the side of her cheek. The stretcher arrived, and they got you on it. Every sound you made, every groan of pain, felt like Alexia's heart was being ripped out of her chest. She felt an arm on her shoulder, and turned to find Irene standing behind her.

"Go off, Ale, go with her. We're up anyway." It was true, Spain was winning, and there wasn't much time left. Her departure from the game likely wouldn't cause the team any issues. Still, she shook her head. You were being lifted up, carried off the field now. Alexia wanted to rush forward, wipe the tears off your face, kiss the grimace off your lips.

"No, she doesn't want me right now. I fucked up." Alexia choked out. Irene sighed, not really blaming you. Alexia had been playing like a crazy person today, like she had something to prove.

"Go anyway. You get her to forgive you by proving that you're sorry. So go." Irene insisted, and Alexia paused, before nodding and heading to the sidelines. She was subbed off, and she headed into the tunnel after you. She turned towards England's side, not quite sure how to find you. Luckily, Leah was standing in the hall, talking to a member of the staff. Alexia cleared her throat, and Leah turned towards her, clearly trying to keep her expression neutral.

"Where is she?" Alexia rasped.

"Hospital." Leah responded, voice hard.

Alexia sighed, a few tears escaping against her will. She normally would never, not ever, let an opponent see her cry. When it came to you, though, it was like she had no control over herself. Leah softened slightly at the sight.

"Come on, I'll drive you." The match was in London, and Alexia was glad she didn't have to wait an unknown amount of time to get to you.

"I do not think she wants to see me." Alexia admitted, despite following Leah towards the exit of the building.

Leah rolled her eyes. "All she's wanted for the past week is you, Putellas. And instead of giving her that, you break her ankle."

"What do you mean? She wanted me?" Alexia questioned, confused. You'd seemed okay with the distance she'd imposed on you, telling her you understood that she needed to focus.

They arrived at Leah's car, climbing in, and Leah began driving before she responded.

"She's having a hard time. She has this stupid idea that she needs to be just like Millie, or me, instead of being herself, which is why she was chosen to lead. She's stressed and exhausted, not to mention worried about you and your return. She needed her girlfriend, Putellas. More than anything."

The midfielder felt the last of her strength crumble, and she spent the rest of the car ride silently wiping away the tears that ran down her face. She would fix it, she promised herself. She'd do anything to fix it.

-----

Alexia wasn't at the hospital long. You'd asked Leah not to bring her to your room, and send her back to your apartment with your key instead. Your ankle was broken, it turned out. You were in a boot, on crutches, and miserable, that much Alexia knew. If you were furious with her, or just marginally angry, she didn't know.

She showered quickly, throwing on some of your clothes as she left her bag at the hotel the team was staying at, before settling on the couch, knee bouncing nervously. She wished the apartment was a mess or something, so she could clean it, but it was spotless. She'd already ordered dinner from your favorite restaurant, so she didn't need to cook. Leah texted her when they were downstairs, and she tried to swallow her anxiety as she heard the door open.

You hobbled in, Leah following with your bag. Alexia stood, taking a hesitant step towards you. You didn't even really look at her, crutching by her to sit on the couch. You threw your crutches to the ground, and put your head in your hands, the emotions of the day finally catching up to you. Leah placed your bag down carefully, shooting Alexia a glare, before she kissed the top of your head.

"Call if you need me, okay?"

"Okay," came your response, muffled by your hands.

Alexia moved your crutches to sit against the couch, before taking a seat on the coffee table in front of you.

"Amor, I am so so sorry."

"It was a clean tackle Alexia, don't apologize." You reply, voice emotionless. Your girlfriend shifted uncomfortably.

"I am still sorry. And I am sorry I was not available this week. I should have talked to you more."

"It's fine."

"You are not mad at me?" Alexia wondered. At this, you finally lifted your head out of your hands, looking at your girlfriend with bloodshot eyes, and a flushed face.

"I am mad. I just don't have the energy to be angry with you right now. I'm too exhausted, my ankle fucking kills, and I've missed you too much. It's pathetic." You cry, reaching a hand out towards the blonde. She doesn't waste a second, taking your hand in hers and pressing a few kisses into the back of it.

"It is not pathetic, amor. You need me, that is okay. You can yell tomorrow."

"I needed you all week," you say quietly, and her grip on your hand tightens.

"I know, amor, and I should have known that, and been there for you. I am here now, though, and I am not going anywhere. Not until you are better."

You looked at her through long, wet, lashes. "Promise?" you asked, voice cracking on the word.

"I promise, mi amor, I promise." Alexia assured you. You pulled on her hand, and she shifted onto the couch, bringing you into her lap, minding your ankle. You collapsed into her, face finding it's favorite spot nestled against her neck. You were getting her skin wet with tears, but she didn't seem to care. In fact, she seemed content to sit there with you until you felt better, no matter how long that took. You pulled away before you really felt much better, though.

"Where are you going?" Alexia asked with a slight pout.

"My ankle hurts," You admit, watching as her expression falls into one of immense guilt. She eases you off of her, back onto the couch, instructing you to stretch your legs out.

"Can I?" She asks quietly, hands hovering over the straps on the boot. It was a test, you knew, to see how angry with her you were, deep down. If you trusted her to take care of your injury or not.

"Be gentle." You ask quietly, and she sighs in relief, nodding. Alexia begins to unstrap the boot, lifting the front piece off before sliding it down and off your foot. You winced, the slight movement sending waves of pain up your leg that made you feel sick. Alexia dropped the boot onto the ground, watching carefully as you shut your eyes, willing the pain away. When you opened them, you noticed that Alexia was trying to discreetly wipe a tear away.

"Hey, what is it?" You ask, concerned, grabbing her hand before she could leave the room.

Alexia scoffs, but sits back down. "I broke your ankle. You are in pain because of me."

"Alexia, it was a clean tackle. I'm not mad that about it. It could have been anyone. I'm mad that you were playing like you wanted to get a red card, putting yourself and my teammates in danger." You explain.

"You are not mad about the tackle?" She asked incredulously.

"No, that would be stupid, that was practically your one clean tackle of the game. I'd like to talk about why you were playing like that, though." Alexia wasn't one to play super rough, and you knew that it was likely a result of some issue she was having. It was hard for you to get her to tell you what was going on in her head.

Alexia is quiet for a minute, working out her rather complex feelings of guilt at the moment. If you weren't angry about that, should she feel so furious with herself? The way she'd played was a whole other issue.

"Can we talk about it tomorrow? I want... I want to just be with you tonight. Take care of my girl." Alexia asked. You softened at her request, opening your arms, and gesturing for her to move closer. She leaned forward holding tight to you, inhaling your comforting scent. You were with her, and you were okay. That was all that mattered to her.

"Of course, baby." You murmured, kissing her temple lightly.

And take care of you, she did. She brought you dinner once it was delivered, and carried you into the shower, holding you up the entire time whilst you bathed and washed your hair, even though she'd already showered. She helped you into your pajamas, before getting your ankle propped up on a pillow, wrapped in an ice pack while you reclined on the bed. She stood anxiously next to your side of the bed, looking around as if searching for something else to do.

"Love, come get in bed." You told her, and Alexia focused on you.

"You do not need anything else?" She checked.

"Just you, pretty girl." You said sweetly. Alexia felt her cheeks heat up at that, and moved around to the other side to the bed. Before really getting to know Alexia, you would not have thought her to be a shy person. She was, though, shying away from any attention you tried to give her at first. Eventually, she got used to it, but she still felt her face flush with pleasure when you called her things like that.

Alexia climbed into bed, curling up into your side easily. She looked tired up close, almost as tired as you felt, and you leaned down, pressing your lips to hers. She sighed into the kiss, finally relaxing. When you pulled away, you couldn't help but notice the way her lips tugged down slightly, as if she was fighting a sad frown.

"What is it Ale?" You asked, running your thumb across her cheek.

"I am just tired. And sorry for hurting you, and ignoring you all week. And stressed about my return and my performance. My brain will not turn off. I am so tired, amor." Alexia said, eyes fluttering closed when your hand cupped her cheek.

"That is a lot of things to be worried about, Ale. I've forgiven you. I'm pretty sure I won't even yell at you tomorrow," Alexia smiles slightly at this. "Push all that out of your head. You're here with me, and everything is going to feel better in the morning. Sleep now, my love."

"Thank you. Te amo." She whispers in response, snuggling in closer to your side.

"I love you." You tell her, letting the feeling of her chest rising and falling against you lull you to sleep.

-----

You're rather unfortunately awoken a few hours later by a gasp, and Alexia stumbling out of bed and into the bathroom. You sit bolt upright, confused, watching from the bed as she grips the counter in her hands, breath ragged.

"Alexia?" you call out. You'd get up, but your ankle protests when you try to shift it off the pillow, so you stop moving, waiting for her to answer you. She doesn't acknowledge that you've spoken. She's speaking quietly to herself, eyes squeezed shut, and you strain your ears to hear her.

"Estás bien, estás bien," she repeats, white knuckled grip on the counter looking painful.

"Alexia," you say again, louder this time.

"Okay, amor, I... I am okay," she gasps out. She's having a panic attack, you realize. In all your time with her, you'd never known her to experience this before, and this realization is enough for you to grit your teeth, and try to get to her. You've swung your leg off the bed, biting your lip to keep from crying out, and grabbed for your crutches when she speaks again.

"St-stay there. No te levantes" Alexia says, switching rapidly between english and spanish.

"Come here then, please baby. Before I drag my ankle over there." You plead.

"No puedo," she whimpers, hand coming up to tug at the neck of her shirt, as if it's restricting her breathing. She's not moving anytime soon, and she looks like she's about to pass out if she doesn't get her breathing under control soon.

You curse under your breath, standing up and wobbly moving towards the bathroom. You make it to her, the blood rushing into your ankle once you stand, but you don't really feel it. The adrenaline has taken over, and your only though is helping your girlfriend.

"No-no puedo respirar," she gasps, eyes opening to find you in front of her. "No se que pasa, ayúdame," she pleads, gripping your shirt in her hand.

"Oh, baby," you coo, taking her hand in yours, and pressing it to your chest. "With me, love, you're okay."

She shakes her head frantically, gasping for air at this point.

"No puedo," she says again, before she pulls her hand away from yours, and begins tugging at her shirt again. "Lo necesito apagado, por favor," she cries.

Frustrated with your lack of mobility, and your shaky balance, you discard your crutches, and pull yourself up to sit on the counter. It's not much more comfortable, but you don't have to balance on one foot, and you can't help Alexia with your hands preoccupied with holding your crutches.

You help her pull her shirt over her head, leaving her in just a sports bra. She seems even more frustrated when that doesn't seem to help, and the tears are falling down her face fast, as her mouth flops open and closed as she tries to breath.

"Alexia," you say sternly, grabbing her face in between your hands. Her wild eyes meet yours, and you guide her closer, until she is standing in between your legs. "You're having a panic attack. You need to let yourself breath. Do it with me, okay?" Alexia's eyes are wide and glistening as she allows you to take her hand again, and press it back over your heart. Her breaths are choppy as she tries to match them with yours.

"There you go, Ale, you're doing good," you encourage, as her inhales begin to match yours more. You keep a tight hold on her hand until her breathing is almost normal. But as her hyperventilating ends, more tears replace it. "Alexia," you sigh, pulling her in. You hate seeing her so upset. You'd do anything to take it away, even if just for a minute. Her chin rests on your shoulder as she sniffles occasionally. You rub her back softly, giving her the time she needs to calm down. She jumps back suddenly, though, looking panicked again.

"Your ankle," she says, looking frantically between the swollen limb and your eyes.

"Shh, I'm okay, come back," you tell her, and she moves back into your arms, despite her protests.

"But amor, this is not-" Alexia's voice is weak and choked.

"Don't worry about it Alexia, seriously." You kiss her forehead, then her temple, before guiding her head back onto your shoulder. She relents, body falling almost limp against you. You're both quiet, the only sounds audible being both of your breathing. You bring a hand up to the nape of Alexia's neck, threading your hand through the hair there, and and holding her tightly against you.

You don't know how long the two of you sit there. Long enough for you to feel the pain in your ankle again, dangling off the counter. It was throbbing, hot and painful, under you. You don't want to let Alexia go before she's ready, so you try to bring you leg up, and rest in on the counter. At your movement, though, Alexia pulls away, pursing her lips as she looks at your ankle.

"Ale, it's fine," you try, but she ignores you. She's still unsteady, hands shaking as she grabs your crutches off the ground where she'd dropped them, and handing them to you.

"Bed?" she asks quietly, and you nod. She follows you back to the bed, a slow process, waiting until your sitting down before leaving the room without another word. You call after her, but she doesn't respond. You're just about to get up, and go after her, again, when she returns, ice pack in her still shaking hand. Regardless, she wraps it around your ankle, before climbing back into bed next to you. Her head finds it's place against your chest.

"What happened, love?" you ask. You feel Alexia's shoulder shrug. "No, come on. Talk to me, please."

"I was anxious when I fell asleep, and when I woke up, I could not breath. I think I had a dream, I did my other knee, and they told me I would not play again." The blonde's voice shakes as she speaks.

"That's awful, love." You murmur into her hair.

"I am sorry I woke you, and that you had to help me," she says weakly.

"Don't be. I'm glad I could help," you promise. "Have you ever had a panic attack before?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

"No."

"Alexia, I think you should talk to someone." You suggest, also pretty sure you know what her response will be.

"Maybe," she says noncommittally.

You sigh. "You at least need to talk to me more, Alexia. You can't just shut down when you're having a hard time, you need to let me help."

"I need to talk to you more?" she asks, turning her head to look up at you, voice a little stronger now. "You need to talk to me too then. You were upset all week and I did not know about it." She says it like she's got you. You surprise her, then, when you nod.

"You're right. We both need to talk to each other more. I know it's not easy, but I'm here, whatever you need, whenever you need me. Okay?"

"Te prometo que." Alexia says after a minute, gazing up at you. You can tell she means it. "You promise too?"

"I promise, Alexia."

Neither of you are perfect, or would ever claim to be. You are, however, perfect for each other. Exactly what the other needs. You know you'll get through anything with Ale with you, at your side.

-----

i love angst. that is all. goodnight.

[bodyintheabyssy]

Buck cuddling with Tommy after comforting him post the bee/almost killing gerrard/plane disaster.

“That must have been stressful for Athena too. Most civilians would panic in that situation. Only relying on a phone instructions would be hard. I wish I was in able to help I was visiting my army buddy at a really secure base. Phones had to be turned off , no cable and there were like 2 windows in the whole compound.”

“The kid was amazing too sounds like” Buck says.

“I hope her leg is alright. Maybe she cw still play after a few months.” Tommy says.

“Yea that has to be tough. But I meant the one helping Athena. He was a natural.”

“Helping triage when they had autopilot?” He tilts his head.

“He helped her fly the plane!”

“WHAT?! How old was he?” Tommy asks dumbfounded.

“12? He knew a lot about planes Athena and Bobby said. He helped her point out which buttons to push and some other stuff.” Buck says excited.

Tommy is shocked, “How, did he know that?”

“He likes planes a lot. Read books and played flight simulator, been to the aviation museum.” Buck shrugs.

“You know, I think I should talk to my boss about a tour for a very special kid with a bright future ahead of him.” Tommy smirks. Buck grins, “Oh I bet he would love that!”

They go silent for a minute. “Oh! And a rouge actor snuck into Bobbys fake fire engine when I told him about Athena.”

Tommy raises an eyebrow. “He had this weird fake english accent, and was kinda strange.” Buck frowns.

“He kept asking Bobby a ton of questions and staring at him on the way there. Then he almost got in the way while we were trying to help the passengers after they landed. Bobby said he is like studying him.”

“For his role as an a amateur firefighter on a sitcom?” Tommy raises a brow.

“Maybe he is dedicated ? Or a stalker? I hope he won’t like follow Bobby home or something!” Buck laughs.

“He is probably just a strange actor.” He shrugs.

“Then he kept mentioning training with the men, like an actor bootcamp or something. In the mountains.”

Tommy looks at his phone for a minute then chuckles. “What?” Buck asks smirking.

“The guy’s imdb is peculiar. Hot shots is same type of work he has always had. But his quotes section is so bizarre. He sounds like is always in a bad action movie.”

“He said ‘saddle up!’ In a british accent before we left to help Athena.” Buck laughs.

Tommy puts a hand on his shoulder, “Trust your instincts but remember Bobby can handle himself. Maybe someone can look into him if you are actually concerned like Athena … or it could be something else.”

“Like what?”

“He may be into Bobby.”

Buck tilts his head, Tommy smirks. “He could just have a creepy sexual tension going on.”

“Sexual tension? With Bobby?!”

“He either wants to be him or be under him.” Tommy says simply.

“What?!?”

“Do you blame him.?” Tommy mumbles.

“What?” Buck asks confused.

“What?” Tommy says like he meant to keep that as a private thought.

“Do you want to fuck Bobby?!”

“I wouldn’t actually sleep with Bobby. Plus I only have eyes for you.” Tommy tries to calm Evan down.

“Oh my god. You want to fuck my dad.”

“Not currently!” Tommy laughs.

Evan looks at him perplexed. “As in you wanted to before??!?!!”

“Yeah. I am surprised you didn’t.” Tommy nudges him with his shoulder.

Evan is going through a complex facial & mental journey.

“Objectively Bobby is a hot & was a capable, kind man with authority over me.” Tommy raises his eyebrows.

“Oh wow.” Buck says conflicted.

“And he looks great shirtless.” Tommy chuckles.

Buck looks at him with surprise, “When have you seen him shirtless?”

“We all compared scares one time after work .”

Buck frowns, “I haven’t even seen his scars.”

“The scars were not my main focus at the time,” Tommy shrugs then smiles.

“Why would you tell me this.” Buck shakes his head.

[08melancholie]

Hi! First of all: love your writings! Somehow you manage to give me exactly what I want. I have read the lessen your stress one, amazing. Thank you. Lots of loves from the other side of the screen.

Now, I would like to request a one shot Micah/F!Reader (or GN reader if you want) where a really sweet and kind Reader likes Micah and actually wants to sleep with him but is a virgin and kind of shy, in contrast with the rough, brute Micah we all know, who will obviously want to sleep with reader too (either bc he likes them back or simply bc he’s desperate and wants sex, you decide, just please don’t miss characterize him too much, I like my Micah as the asshole he is :’) <3

Thank you very much and I really appreciate your work! <3 have a good day!

thank you sm for the compliments <33 and dw because i like to also keep my men just as scummy at times🙏

Some aspects might be similar to 'Untouched' here (still attached to that fic like a leech chat..) but i'll make sure it still sounds new!

Lose Some; Gain Some. — Micah Bell/Reader

tags: Smut, Porn, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Micah Bell Is His Own Warning, Virginity, Loss of Virginity, Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Sex, Orgasm, Multiple Orgasms, Rough Sex, but just a bit at the end, its micah he doesnt know how to be gentle sorry guys, Not Beta Read, no beta we die like micah bell

summary: You would rather take over doing everyone's chores in camp forever, than ask the question thats currently been plaguing your mind; one of your lowest lows, probably. You were told that a woman's virginity is a precious thing, how you had to lose it to the right person. This, however, you found to be total bullshit. And you wanted nothing more than the man who was Micah Bell to do it for you.

a/n: first ask yippiee!! i am so busy with exams oh lord i barely made time for this😭 i hope its to your liking!!! second ao3 post today im on a roll actually🙏🙏

words: 3,201 | AO3 LINK

Still being a virgin at this age is almost laughable. Well, it is; the girls haven't stopped teasing you since you told them during a game Mary-Beth told everyone about. You had to answer the question asked by Karen—about your sex life—or drink. You answered that you were still a virgin, and a few of them laughed; haven't stopped making jabs at you since. It's almost irritating.

And, your irritation made you slip up—by saying you'd lose your virginity tonight.

"What!? Tonight? With who?" Karen immediately snapped her head in your direction and away from the fresh laundry she and you were folding. There go the consequences of your actions. Who the hell do you even say?

You put down your own laundry back into your lap. "Well," You'll either have to lie your ass off, or go for the truth; but you sure as hell were not going for the latter. "guy I met in the saloon while we were still in Valentine, we've been writing." Not too bad.

Karen chuckled, thankfully buying into your lie. "Well, ain't I happy for you! It's about damn time, anyway." She goes back to the chore, like yourself, and continues your previous conversation.

Let's think logically—or, as logically as you could—about this; you don't exactly trust finding a random man in a bar to do this with, so who is going to eagerly take your virginity? Who would you ask that wouldn't tell anyone in camp about it, keep it between you two for the exchange of taking it from you? Who would you want to take your virginity?

You thought about how sweet Arthur would be; how he'd probably understand and treat you right, talk you through everything while praising you for following his instructions so well. Or maybe Charles; A gentle giant that would worship you as should be, show you how everything is done while talking in that deep tone you love to hear.

And then your mind went completely south of the previous two. You thought about how greedy he'd be, touching and moving his hands all over your body, wanting to feel every crevice under his rough fingertips. How he'd see taking your virginity as a precious thing, how you were told growing up, something you wanted him to have—and also as the biggest ego boost ever. He'd probably be a complete tease, too, nor would he talk you through the process like the other two. He'd probably just go for it, no instructions as you scrambled for what you had to do while he—

Jesus Christ, that's the last person you should be even 'just considering'.

Micah Bell is NOT an option here; forget it. Even if the heat between your legs didn't agree with these terms, you would not give your first time to that bastard. He was just an egotistical, rude, mouthy degenerate. Why the hell was the thought of how poorly he'd treat the situation getting you so worked up? You're practically soaking your garments over this bastard; and that's a problem.

Oh, but it's so tempting; this, unfortunately, wasn't the first time you've caught yourself thinking of him, imagining him in bed—which is reasonably worse than the former. Could you refuse yourself this small want? When you think about it, he might be one of the only people here who'd jump to get intimate without question, seeing how he catcalls and flirts with most of camp; including yourself a few times. God, were you really going to do this? How would you even bring it up?

This was something you needed to think of on the way, because it was nearing nighttime and you'd probably lose him to the darkness in the outskirts of camp, where he's usually found. As soon as you finished folding the laundry, you excused yourself from Karen and went to find Micah, thinking over what you would say to him. You had a whole dialogue figured out by the time you spotted him smoking by Baylock, probably having gotten done tending to the horse after the job he went on today. You really had to just brace yourself and follow your little plan, while hoping it'll turn out how you envisioned it to.

He noticed you approaching while you were a few steps away, the nervousness in your body language not hard to make out; hands clasped together, eyes focusing everywhere but on his own, your steps almost reluctant. He raised an eyebrow at you while taking a drag from the cigarette. "Look who it is; worried I'mma bite 'ya?"

You were barely able to give a reaction to his words, your nerves making you go almost silent. "Hah, no.. no, I'm..." Come on! We practiced this six times already! As soon as your eyes darted to his own greyish-blues, you lost your goddamn ability to speak. For the love of God; get your shit together. "Listen; this is very hard for me to even say out loud." Well, it's a good start.

Micah's eyebrows furrow slightly, your sudden shyness compared to the usual quips you could muster up back to his flirting or teasing very abnormal. But, he doesn't comment on it, wanting to hear you out before he teased you further. "Go on then, girl." He speaks, tossing his cigarette elsewhere.

The embarrassment this will leave you in will be history. "Okay.. so, uh.. I need your help with something—let's say." Your words just make him more confused; speaking to him in these absurd riddles. "Would you just.. hear me out?"

The blonde man nods after a moment, folding his arms over his chest while leaning back on the tree. Okay, you can get the words out, trust yourself.

"Would you.. and it's just a one-time thing, may I add." You start, a blush creeping up your neck and to your cheeks as you tried to think of what you were saying; you were about to ask Micah to get intimate with you. Yeah, you don't think this low can be matched. Nonetheless, no giving up now. "Would you take.. take my uh.. virginity?" As soon as the words leave your mouth, you have to hold back from fleeing the scene. "Listen—I lied to the girls and I just.. fuck, it's you."

Micah's had a small smirk on his face, mostly directed towards your nervous and shy state, until the sentence finally left your mouth. His smile dropped and he assumed he heard you wrong. "What'd you say.? Would I take.. your virginity?" He repeats back to you, definitely sure he's heard you wrong. But as you slowly nod your head, unable to open your mouth any longer, his eyes slowly widen a little more, rubbing his chin in thought. "Well, goddamn. You're one bold 'lil thing, ain'tcha?" Here comes the teasing you envisioned.

You roll your eyes to the comment. "I don't need your comments, Micah. You in or not? I'll gladly find someone else." You threaten, biting your cheek. Don't make me find someone else.

He perks up at your empty threat. "Hey—no, don't threaten me now, doll," He leans off the tree and gets right in your personal space, hands on his gun belt. "you know I love to help a lady in need out." He purrs at you, looking down almost menacingly.

"Good," You murmur, the closer he got the more nervous it made you. "then.. it's settled." It's only when he stands right before you, hands running up from your outer thighs to your sides, that you start processing what you've gotten yourself into.

His hands glide over your waist, feeling you up through your shirt. "Surprised yer still untouched, many would love a little body like this in their hands." His words and the small squeeze to your sides send butterflies straight to your stomach; you could practically lose it right then and there. "But it's only little ole me that gets it, huh?" His claim is followed by a darkish chuckle, ringing in your ears. He stops his hands over your ribs and the underside of your chest, looking down shamelessly at the little cleavage your shirt provides. "Well then; my tent?"

It took him barely a few seconds to get you through the flaps of his tent, tying the canvas shut and making sure you've got the bit of privacy camp life can offer. It takes him even less time to shove you down to his cot, seating yourself on the mattress and looking up at him settling atop you, knees around your outer thighs. "Don't you look pretty under me like this." His hands cup around the underside of your jawline, thumbs running up and down the outline of your face. "So, ever kissed a feller?"

You raise an eyebrow at the question. "Not that much of a prude." Your quick response gets a gruff chuckle out of him for a brief moment, before he'd leaned down and captured your lips with his, setting a nice and quick pace for the kiss. You return it with just as much swiftness, hand reaching for his belt buckle and gripping it, earning an appreciative sound out of Micah. "Good girl," His tongue swipes over your bottom lip, trying to enter your mouth rather quickly; but you don't complain, quickly complying. He gets himself an immediate taste of you, tongue swirling around in your mouth as if mapping out the contour of the body part. He goes back to exploring the rest of your body with his hands, moving them all around your sides and waist before stopping at the hem of your shirt and breaking away from your mouth briefly. "Let me see what I'm workin' with, doll." You breathe in the air that the kiss knocked out of you for a moment before wordlessly nodding, lifting your arms up for him to slide the shirt off, peeling it away from your torso and arms as you're sat almost bare from the stomach up now, only covered by your bra. Your shirt is tossed elsewhere, and he goes back to appreciating the view in front of him—or well, under him.

"Oh, you're perfect, little lady." He doesn't hesitate to reach his hands to your chest almost immediately, cupping you through the bra while running his thumbs on the upper flesh that was exposed. His fingers are as calloused as you envisioned, as if moulding your soft flesh with every swipe of his digits on your skin. He knows his way around your body, probably from the experience you lack. One hand stops groping you and moves to your back again, fiddling with your bra before unclasping it. Why is it that your shyness is only hitting you now? As soon as he starts moving your bra straps down to reveal your bare chest to him, you finally process that he's about to see you nude, and you definitely show some signs of reluctance. He notices your sudden demeanour change and looks from your chest to your eyes. "Come on, I don't judge, princess. Bet you're realll purty under here." His finger slips between your cleavage and hooks to the middle of your bra that connects the two pieces as he tugs at the material, slowly moving it away from your bare chest. It slips off your shoulders and arms, and you feel like a prey being inspected by it's hunter under that dark gaze Micah's blues hold. "Like I said.. damn beautiful."

Your shyness and nerves don't pass him by, and he doesn't want you to feel uneasy while he gets what he wants, so he decides to try and ease you up with another kiss, leaning up and snaking one hand to the back of your head to pull you in while the other went to your jean button, undoing it before moving to the zipper. The kiss definitely helped calm you a bit, your hands on his shoulders now as you clung to his shirt, kissing back with a small hum in your throat. He works your zipper down and hooks his fingers into your waistband, breaking the kiss again. "Lift your hips real quick," When you comply, he pulls your jeans down and you help him by kicking them off when they reach your ankles. His hand finds itself right between your legs, swiping at your still-clothed and warm entrance to find you just as aroused as he was. "damn, lookat'chu. Surprised a lady sweet as you'd be this wet over fuckin' a bastard like me." You almost moan at his comment, your garments definitely as damp as you felt them between your legs, drawing your shyness and embarrassment to a whole new level.

He leans away from you to strip his jeans off, first unclasping his gun belt and placing it over to where your shirt was, slowly moving into unzipping and undoing any other restraint that stopped him from getting naked. He looks to you—just watching him strip his pants off—and chuckles briefly. "Well? Get them panties off, sweetheart. Ain't need experience for that." You snap your eyes away from the small peek of a happy trail on his stomach that you, shamelessly at that, were staring at and stand up momentarily to slip your undergarments off, tossing them just shy of the other articles of clothing. "Mm, good, good.." He hums, letting his jeans drop before wasting no time with his drawls, slipping them off and freeing the leaky, visibly throbbing erection that was hidden in it. Your eyes scan over the length; it doesn't look too big, you can probably take it...

But where many assume Micah lacks in length—he makes up for in thickness.

He positions you to turn and bend over the cot slightly, hands on the mattress and back slightly arched. He's moving you around like a doll, positioning you to his liking. He lets out a small whistle when he's got you exactly how he wants you. "Ain't often I get a chance to do this type of thing... Almost feels like an early birthday gift." He chuckles while running one hand down your spine and moving to your hip, stroking himself with the other. He swipes two fingers over your entrance—earning himself a small moan—and uses it, mixed with some of his precum, to moisten his member up. "Now, might hurt a bit, ain't gonna lie to 'ya." You knew that much, mostly why you were adamant to the idea of sex for a while, but it can't be that bad, can it? "But we'll try to keep calm, eh girl?" He punctuates his last sentence with a squeeze to your hip before his tip slides between your warm folds, slickening himself up some more while he rubs his cock just shy of your entrance—unable to help himself from teasing you some. You let out a plethora of meek moans and huffs, your cunt itching for him to just ease it in. After a moment, he stops his tip at your entrance, ready to slide in. "I'mma go slow, try to make it.. durable for 'ya."

There's definitely a small stretch mixed into the overwhelming feeling of your walls being filled by Micah's thick shaft, clenching around him as you sigh and gasp to every inch filling you. "Shh, you're alright.. look," He reaches one hand over around you, two fingers pressing to your clit and making slow circles on it. Your sighs turn into small moans again. "Yeah.. good, focus on ma' hand, baby." He hums, slowly starting to bottom out into your pussy. His hips meet your rear as he continued to rub over your nub, giving you a brief moment to adjust before he pulls out to the tip—then slides right back in. The pain isn't as bad as people made it out to be, but some have a higher pain tolerance either way. You do your best to focus on the sensation Micah's rough fingers are playing on your clit, more than the way his cock slams into you and creates an almost echo-ey sound of skin-on-skin slapping, filling the tent with the suggestive melody.

The repetitive motion of his dick brushing your gummy walls has you on cloud-nine; you're gasping and moaning, letting his name slip past your lips in a pitched tone, grasping fistfuls of the sheets underneath you as his pace slowly gets faster per thrust. "Don't think it's smart I cum inside," He chuckles, punctuating himself with another slam of his hips into your ass, followed by your sweet little whine, almost like a protest. "you want me to?" He asks curiously due to your whine, and his grin gets so much wider when you nod your head, and his pace turns relentless. He starts fucking into you how he likes, trying to get himself to cum while rubbing you faster to get you there with him. "Can't wait to feel you clench this pretty cunt around me," He purrs with a small kiss to the nape of your neck before his focus is back on fucking his throbbing cock into you, getting himself closer by the moment.

You feel your own orgasm start to approach, your legs slightly jittery from the upcoming feeling. Micah takes quick note of this change and rubs your clit faster, drawing more whiny moans out of you that get muffled by the action of burying your head into the mattress; last thing you need is someone hearing you moaning Micah's name. Your whines are breathless and abrupt, getting cut off by each of Micah's quick thrusts into your cunt, all until you finally feel yourself tip over the edge and you cum, the clench of your pussy around Micah enough to get him there just a moment after you. He buries his cock deep into you, holding you up from collapsing into the bed by the hips as his chest makes contact with your back, the side of his head on the very top of your torso as he gasps breathlessly. "Ah.. there we go.." You can feel him empty himself inside you, your shaky legs barely supporting you with Micah doing most of the work.

He gives himself a moment before pulling out and placing you down to lay on the cot. "Let me tell you somethin', darlin';" He gets his underwear and jeans off the floor, slipping into both before leaning over you to whisper into your ear. "This definitely ain't 'gon be a one-time thing—not with how addicting that cunt is, or with how 'ya love to scream my name." He purrs lowly while clasping his gun belt back up, running a hand down your spine and stopping at your ass with a firm squeeze before moving you to lay more comfortably on his bed. "Well, get comfortable, think I'm up for a smoke.." He lazily tosses a random blanket in his tent over you—it's the thought that counts, apparently—before leaving you in his tent to rest up.

And you agree; he's addicting, and you will be fucking again.

Kudos on AO3 very appreciated!! we love the micah smut where hes still an ass to us <3

[kenmjiro]

𖦹⭑ What are we? (TR)

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ Summary: you two do things as couples even so you are not sure whether you are dating or not.

⋆⸜ 🎧✮₊˚ Character: Baji, Kazutora y Chifuyu

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ Kazutora

and if...?

And if you like it? What if there's more to it than just being friends? But what if there isn't? What if it was natural for you to be like that with a “Friend”?

Kazutora only had a few people next to her. And you were one of them. He was really happy when someone like you, who was probably sent by God, was willing to be friends with him. You accepted him for who he is despite his past.

You see, being your friend is fun and memorable. But, the more time they spend together, the more confusing it is for him.

Sometimes, you will hug him while watching a movie at home. There are times when he will say goodbye with a kiss on the forehead when it is time to part; which honestly surprises him too. And, every time you two meet, you would surprise him by hugging him from behind.

These actions honestly make his poor heart swell. He knows that these things are not what “Friends” do. It is not the same as what he sees in what “normal” friends do.

Here she is with him, walking in the park. However, all of these things were bothering Kazutora. His brain almost goes blank at whatever he's talking about. The only thing going through your mind is whatever is going on between the two of you.

“So that's why I told him he won't crawl,” he says as you continue to rant at him as the two of you walk.

You noticed that Kazutora was no longer by your side. He was there, left in his path, standing as if he were in deep thought.

Realizing there was something, you walked towards him and snapped your fingers in front of his face.

“Kazutora,” you said, your voice louder than usual.

“Do you like me?” He said. He was surprised by what he said too.

You looked at him perplexed. Kazutora facepalmed as he pulled the question out of nowhere. So he decided to continue with what he just started.

“Well, here goes nothing” He thought.

“I mean, Y/n, I know we're friends. And you probably only see me as one. But not me. You make me feel things. And, just… What are we?” Kazutora asked, his ears turning red as he anxiously awaited your response.

You walked towards the man, hugging him and smiling at him.

“Well, we are whatever you want us to be,” you said.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ Baji

Baji is a trustworthy man. Although he can be quite foolish at times, he knows that he can keep everything under control the way he wants. After all, he is not the captain of Toman's first division for nothing. He believes he can pull anything with ease.

Except for his relationship with you.

Having met by accidentally choosing the last peyoung yakisoba available, you and baji immediately connected. From then on they got together during their free time.

He would come to your house to rant about how stressed he is dealing with Toman. Sometimes he stops by just to say hello and bring you your favorite snacks. On weekends he would knock on your door and invite you to join him on walks.

And between those moments there are moments when your touch lingers longer than it's supposed to. When they walk together he would notice how he grabs her hands. When he rants he'll notice how your eyes shine with interest even though you have no idea what he's talking about.

and that confuses Baji a lot.

Well, sure you two are friends. But are friends supposed to hold hands? Are you supposed to feel empty when your friend isn't around? Are friends supposed to make you feel like butterflies are bursting out of you? your stomach when you see her smile?

All this makes Baji's head hurt so much just thinking. Much more than when he was solving his math problems.

And to solve that headache, he knows there's only one way to find out.

While the two of you were taking your evening walks, Baji randomly asked the question. It's not like he wasn't nervous about it, but he just wanted to get rid of what's been bothering him for quite some time.

“Y/n, what are we?” Baji asked.

“Uhmm, Friends?” You responded confusingly.

"Good. Friends” Baji said, his lips pursed as he looked at your hand holding his.

“Wait, sorry for asking this but, do you like me?” you said, trying to hold back your laughter.

“Wait so… I mean no, but yes?” Baji responded confusedly. “Look Y/n, I like her more than a friend. And that…” he pointed to your hand “confuses me.”

“I like you too, idiot. Why do you think I agree with all your plans?” You responded, flicking his forehead.

Baji locked himself in his arms. He smiled widely as if he was about to have his first peyoung yakisoba of the day.

I guess, after all, math is the only confusing thing in his life.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ Chifuyu

Was it bad that he sometimes used shoujo mangas as a guide for his life?

It's not like she can ask anyone about it. As much as she would like to ask Takemichi she didn't want to be a bother. But he's not like Mikey, nor would anyone from Toman be of any help.

So here he is, burning all his neurons trying to understand his relationship with you.

You and Chifuyu have been friends for a while. You were Hina's classmate, whom she sometimes brings with her when she needs to accompany Takemichi. And she accompanies Takemichi, he will also be there. You two became instant friends and also acted as Hina and Takemichi's third and fourth wheels.

Surprisingly, you two became instant friends. Most of the time, you two would talk about the most random things. From piercings to your favorite band, your favorite sleeves, etc. These conversations would continue over the phone. Often. through text messages or calls that would last until 3 to 4 a.m.

There were also good morning and good night messages between us. And things like “What are you doing?” or “What are you eating?”

What surprises him is that he found himself eagerly awaiting your answers. And when you fell asleep and forgot to say goodnight, he often felt sad.

More than this, sometimes you asked him to accompany you when you needed to run some errands. And I would not hesitate to comply.

The same goes for him. You were instantly his first choice when it came to inviting someone to watch a movie or eat with him.

Chifuyu is aware that this friendship could turn into something more, but what if she's reading this wrong?

He keeps asking himself: Does he really have to ask you? Of course chifuyu, you like it. But are labels really important? What if this is all being friends means to you? Wait, what if you're already dating?

Chifuyu wanted to slap herself for the last question. Surely, if you're dating, he would have asked you out first. That's how it's supposed to work, right? or at least in what he reads.

So he was, thinking of a way to open up to you. Currently, you are sitting in front of him eating your ramen.

He honestly doesn't believe he can do this.

“Y/n-chan, are we dating?” The words flew out of his mouth at random. Apparently, his mouth started working before his brain.

Choking on your food, you were surprised that he decided to cross that topic.

Chifuyu, who was also surprised, suddenly began to apologize.

"I'm sorry. I really am. “It’s not my intention” You interrupted him.

“Well, do you want us to do it?” you asked.

"That?"

“You asked me if we were dating, right? I mean, do you want us to?” Because I like you. And not just what I like for friends” you said looking at the poor blushing boy.

Chifuyu, who was about to cry and burst into happiness, suddenly hugged you from across the table.

“'Chifuyu, what are you-”

"Yeah. I really like Y/n-chan. “I want us to go on a date.” he said, with tears in his eyes.

“I know chifuyu. “Now let me finish my ramen first, okay?”

He nodded.

Maybe it was worth reading all those shoujo mangas after all.

[greekceltic]

FAQ Page

She/her | 38 | I like cats and rain. My comic: https://catswaycomic.com/ My Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/greekceltic My Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/greekceltic Other links: https://linktr.ee/greekceltic Sorry in advance if you send me a message and I don't get back to you, I tend not to stress over messages/asks. I do try to read them though, and I'm always open to being asked questions about characters or my headworld/stories. I am already aware that my art is being copied. They're blocked. Please stop telling me about it. Rest of my FAQ is under the cut >

Can I repost your work? I don't mind as long as I'm credited. I'm less okay with my work being used as a pageviews grab, but it's probably not worth my time to care. If it's something I've selected to take down and don't have posted anymore, don't. If it's something you commissioned, go for it. You don't need to credit me every time you share it. Once in a while is cool.

Are you okay with fanart? What about OC interactions? Can I post it? Sure, just don't profit off of it and please credit me. If you want to draw my OCs interacting with yours that's also fine (and fun!)- though I prefer situations where their actions make sense. Alf wouldn't make your character cry, for example. He's grumpy but not cruel. Posting it is fine. Is it okay if I take inspiration from your art and concepts? I've been in a situation in recent years where another artist has taken far, far too much. It's a subject I'm pretty burnt out on. I recently saw another artist's take on this and it looked sensible to me. I'm just going to quote theirs. I have tried to find my own words, but right now I find myself more comfortable using someone else's. "Well, if you’re having to ask me for permission, either your design is too similar or you’re being overly nervous about a normal artistic process. You’re absolutely free to use my work as a source of inspiration but I’d strongly encourage you to think about the details from my design you like most, and remix them with other concepts into your own unique take."

Taking inspiration is something everyone does, but please don't become a shadow I get bi-weekly alerts about. Ideally your pool of inspiration will be many artists and concepts re-imagined into something unique to you- and that you're being honest with yourself about the result.

Your art is being copied! / Will you tell me who the copy cat is? I get a lot of messages about this and am tired. I'm sure if my art ends up somewhere it shouldn't be or there's something really worth my attention I'll find out through friends. Otherwise, I'm just sayin' get a second or third opinion before coming to my inbox. I probably already know about it.

I sent you a message and you didn't respond. Sorry about that. I tend not to stress about messages because it can be a drain. You're more likely to get a response if you let me know from the get go what you want, but nothing is guaranteed. Sometimes I didn't see it, sometimes I got busy or forgot, sometimes I plan to do it later, sometimes I just opted out. It's not personal. Where do you Rp? Are you looking for more partners? Discord mostly. Roleplay consumes a lot of time so these days I mostly only play with my buddy Thema. I probably wouldn't have time to play, but I like to hang around people that do and I don't mind being asked. Just please don't be sad if I never get around to responding! I'm most compatible with people who are comfortable with radio silence.

Can I use your characters in roleplay/as roleplay refs? Considering I actively roleplay my OCs and there's a potential for confusion, I'd rather you didn't. Though I think there's a difference between linking to my art and saying 'this is my character', and linking to it to say 'this has the mood I'm going for, but here's what's different about my character--'. The latter is fine.

Can I make Fan OCs for your setting? Thinking about this makes me tired. Maybe I'll get to a point where I'm more comfortable later, but for now I'd rather you didn't make something directly from my worlds. But lets be real, you don't need my permission to draw cat monsters and I take a huge amount of inspiration from ancient history. Many of my concepts are inspired by things that you can read about and be inspired too. If you see something and are curious if there's a historical source, just ask. Hopefully I'll remember.

Do I have permission to draw NSFW art of your characters? No, for a plethora of reasons, some easy to explain and some not, but I probably can't stop you. Just don't profit off of it or show it to me.

Do you have a website for your OCs? I have RP pages for them scattered all over the place and many of them are outdated, but as I type this I recently put some up on Toyhouse. https://toyhou.se/GreekCeltic

Do you have a website for your comic? Sure do. It's an expensive fuck. https://catswaycomic.com/ When does your comic update? Sporadically. I work on it when I have time. My income is solely freelance commissions and Patreon- mostly commissions.

There's other places you could post your comic! Yeah, I know. I may do that someday, but for now I like having my own house, even if it's an expensive fuck. (Not really, the renewal just hits around tax time, Lol).

[bungalowbear]

Across the Stars X

Pairing: Hunter x Jedi!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: It’s time for you and the children to flee Ibaar, but an unexpected and deadly adversary makes an appearance.

Warnings: action/fighting, mention of death and blood and a body being cut in half, major character death

A/N: It’s been almost a full year since I last updated this story. So sorry for the long wait! I struggled a lot with motivation for this series but the recent season has lit a fire under me. I’m excited to share this with you and what more I have in store. Let me know what you think, or come to my ask box to discuss the show! I’d love to hear from you :)

Series Masterlist

Staying on Ibaar for this long was always a risk. You knew this, and yet it turns out even you aren’t immune to the temptation of normalcy, a coveted comfort promising a respite from your troubles. And now, your weakness might prove to be your and the children’s doom.

You and Tara race across the dirt and back home. Ushering her in first, you look over your shoulder before the door slides closed with a swift thud. The others scramble away from the window and crowd around you.

“What’s happening?” Lyra questions, looking up at you with worry painted across her face.

“It’s the Empire,” Petro says. His expression is even, but you can see the panic in his youthful eyes. “How did they find us?”

“Yes, the Empire is here.” Speaking slowly, you look at each of them before you continue. “But not for us. We know they’ve occupied other planets, and unfortunately, Ibaar is next.”

Gungi chimes in, asking what happens now.

“We’re leaving.” All four voices protest as soon as the words pass your lips. They talk all at once, lamenting their established lives on this planet. It pains you to take this away. You shouldn’t have given it to them in the first place. You silence them with the clearing of your throat. “This isn’t up for discussion. We’ve been here too long, and staying any longer will only put us in unnecessary danger.”

“We can’t just leave these people to be taken over by the Empire,” Tara objects. “They’ll be pushed around and exploited just like on Saleucami.”

You frown, shaking your head. “We can’t help them, Tara.”

“But—”

“You are a child.” The word forces itself out of you, stressed by her actions against the troopers. Tara’s eyes widen before she turns away from you. You sigh, addressing the other three as well. “You are children first, Jedi second. Do you understand?”

Petro, Gungi, and Lyra nod their heads solemnly. Tara still doesn’t face you, but the drop of her shoulders tells you she accepts your words.

“There is nothing of greater importance to me than making sure you all live long, long lives.” You open your arms and three bodies step into your embrace. Lyra tugs on Tara’s sleeve until she eventually joins. You stretch your arms as wide as they will go and hold the younglings close. “Yes, we help others when we can. But this is not one of those times. We’ll leave for the mountain just before first light.”

You tell the children to pack a bag and that you’ll check on them before it’s time to sleep. They’re quiet as they trudge toward their respective rooms, a few sniffles interrupting the silence.

After you tuck the children in one last time, you station yourself in the living room. Sleep doesn’t come for you, so instead you keep watch through the window. The house, the street, the whole town, is suffocated with a deadly tension. Once again, you sense the impending approach of an obscure force. Your mind’s cloudiness has improved, the shadow of the dark side slowly withdrawing from your psyche, but it’s still left you with a numbness you have yet to break out of. Your visions are not to be trusted yet. Not even worth considering. Not when the lives of four children hang in the balance.

Your heart aches for them. They are too young to have to endure what they have, but it’s also their very youth that helps you face another rising sun. Petro’s confidence, Gungi’s loyalty, Lyra’s gentleness, and Tara’s compassion remind you each day that there is still light and hope in this galaxy. 

No one knows how long this dangerous time will last for the Jedi, but you swear to yourself you will do all you can to protect their light. It doesn’t burn as radiantly as it did before, dimmed by the circumstances it finds itself in, but you’re glad you could foster it even if for a short time here on Ibaar. You cling to the hope that someday it can shine freely once again.

The sun has yet to rise when you feel a shift. Someone very dangerous to the Jedi has landed on Ibaar. It’s dark and menacing. It’s searching. 

You wake the children and help them gather their things. You raise a finger to your mouth, pressing your hand to the panel beside the door to open it. You step outside and make sure the coast is clear. Then, you signal for the children to follow after you. Quiet, careful steps make their way across the dirt into a narrow alley. Your small group sticks closely together, only the rustle of your canvas knapsacks make noise as they gently brush against your cloaks.

When you reach the far end of the street you hear the commotion. It’s coming from behind, from the direction of your home, and you realize you’ve been found out. You don’t know how but it’s not what’s most important in this moment.

“Hurry,” you tell the children.

But your quickened pace is not enough to outrun what’s behind you.

A blaster shot whizzes past your head. Turning, you see a squadron of troopers approaching. You pull the children behind a pile of stacked crates and untuck the blaster from the holster strapped to the back of your trousers. You wait until several rounds of fire stop before reaching your arm around the crate and firing back.

The troopers pause their assault, finding their own cover as you continue to fire. You manage to hit a few of them, but there are still too many for you to flee safely. You pull back behind the metal crates and face four worried expressions. 

“I’m going to cover you while you run to that next pile.” You jerk your chin to the crates diagonal to where you’re crouched. “On my signal.”

Lyra places a hand on your arm. A frown pulls the corner of her lips downward.

“I’ll be right behind you,” you assure her.

You look between each of them as you count to three and then start shooting again. You step into the middle of the alley while the children dash toward the crates. You dodge a blaster shot. Taking out another three troopers, your feet move backward toward the children. Another blast just misses you as you roll onto the dirt and land at their feet safely behind the crates. 

Getting to your hands and knees, you peek around the corner of the barricade and count four troopers remaining. You start to think it won’t be as difficult to get out of this situation as you initially predicted. But then you see a dark figure emerge from the cloud of dirt.

He wears robes as black as a moonless night sky. His tall yet built figure halts to position himself behind the remaining troopers. He reaches beneath his robe and reveals a circular object, a large ring with a handle running through the middle that he holds onto. He lifts it and a beat passes before two red sabers burst from either end. Glowing crimson eyes meet yours and you can’t fight the shiver that runs down your spine.

“Okay,” you say as you retreat behind the barricade. “Here’s what we’re doing. You’re all going to go ahead and get the ship ready.”

“What?” Petro asks.

“Master, no!” Lyra shouts.

“You’re all going ahead,” you repeat firmly, looking at each of them. “Get the ship ready. If I’m not back before the sun touches the mountain, then you leave without me.”

Tara’s brow creases, her lips part to voice her own disagreement, but you speak again. 

“You must do this.” Four pairs of shoulders deflate. They must recall your words from the night before because they don’t argue further. “Stay together and don’t stop until you reach the mountain.”

You manage an encouraging smile before you count again. On three, the children jump to their feet and sprint toward the end of the alley. A few blaster shots fly past you and you turn your head to make sure they made it off safely. You catch sight of Lyra’s cloak as they disappear around the corner before turning back and advancing on the troopers. You take out the last of them, and now it’s just you and the mysterious figure left in the alley.

“You’re not what I expected,” he states inquisitively, voice altered by the modulator within his mask. It hides his true face and you’re not sure if that makes him more menacing or not.

“Sorry to disappoint,” you respond, dryly.

“Nevertheless, Lord Vader will be pleased with your capture. He’s been searching for you.”

“Vader?” You’ve never heard the name before. Must be some new Imperial tasked with capturing any remaining Jedi. But why would he be searching for you specifically? “I don’t know any Vader.”

“But he knows you.” The mysterious figure hums, a deep and unsettling sound. “And how do you think I’ll be rewarded when I return with not just one Jedi, but a batch of younglings?”

“Unfortunately for you,” you tuck your blaster into its holster, “you’ll never find out.”

You take a deep breath in as you take your stance. He wields a lightsaber, so you suspect he might also be a Force wielder. He won’t be easy to defeat like the troopers who lay scattered around you.

Wind blows through the alley, disrupting more of the dirt and clouding the battleground between you. He charges first, swinging his dual saber, but you quickly side step his attack. You crouch down to swing your leg and take him off his feet but he leaps high, higher than any regular life form should. He confirms your suspicions about being a Force wielder when he uses the Force to hurl you against the pile of crates. Your head smacks against the hard metal, and you barely have time to blink before he’s on you again. He towers above you and raises his weapon. He brings it down without hesitation, but you raise your hand before it can slice through your shoulder. It’s a battle of strength. The prize is your severed arm. The Force vibrates chaotically between you and your adversary. Drops of perspiration bead down from your temple as the heat of the saber inches closer. 

Your eyes flick down to his hand. In a quick movement, you grab the hilt of the saber where the horizontal handle meets one end of the ring above his hand, twisting up and in the opposite direction of his hold. When his grip on the hilt weakens, you push off your feet and take control of the saber. You continue the disarming movement so that the saber makes a fluid arc that slashes clean through his torso.

He grunts as realization dawns on him that it’s over. You won. His body drops to the floor in two halves. You wait until you see the life leave his eyes, then you power down the saber. It’s a strange design, one you’ve never seen before. Part of you is intrigued. But the longer you hold it the more darkness begins to bleed at the edges of your mind. You toss it to the ground unceremoniously and hurry toward the end of the alley, leaving the town behind and heading toward the mountain.

The sunlight is already touching the mountain but you’re confused when you reach the cave and the ship is still inside, surrounded by the haphazardly discarded large rocks that covered the entrance. Immediately, you feel something is very wrong, and it becomes even more apparent when Lyra comes running down the open ramp of the ship. She’s calling your name as she holds out her hands that are covered in blood.

You sprint inside with Lyra right behind you and find Tara lying on her back on the floor with her head in Gungi’s lap. He has a paw pressed to her torso to stop the bleeding, but Lyra takes over again when she drops by her friend’s side. 

”While we were running out of the alley Tara was hit by a ricochet.” Petro’s not looking at you as he speaks. He’s rummaging around frantically through the compartments for a med pack. “She’s lost a lot of blood.”

You sink to your knees beside Tara. Her breathing is slowing down. You can feel her fading away. Your left hand takes hers and you smooth the hair from her face with the other. She stares up at you with watery eyes. 

“I’m sorry, Master.” Her voice is weak. It’s a soft plea for forgiveness. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault,” you assure her gently. “You were very brave. You have such a good heart, Tara. I’m so proud of you.”

You hold back your tears and try to keep a comforting smile on your face. You don’t want her last moments to be filled with sorrow. You hold her hand until her grip loosens and she releases her final breath. 

Gungi lets out an anguished howl. 

Lyra begins to sob. 

Petro drops silently beside you.

Tara lays before you all, lifeless.

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[needlesandnilbogs]

To Show Patience With: The Character of Overse in Martha Wells's Murderbot

Overse is not a name. As it's spelled, it's a Norwegian or Danish verb that means "overlook," or it can be spelled "överse" and be a Swedish word meaning "overlook" as well. My friend, a fluent Swedish speaker, said she'd understand the meaning if she saw the word "överse" used, but she wouldn't pick that word to translate from English to Swedish.

However, the language authority for Sweden, the Swedish Academy, gives an alternate meaning to the verb "överse"; it can mean to overlook, to critically go through/to review, or to show patience with. Their example of that last meaning is "han över­såg med barnens slarv," which my friend and Google Translate both say means something along the lines of "he overlooked the carelessness of the children."

I feel at this point I should quote this friend: "The funky thing about Swedish is that it's a very word-poor language, so one word can mean a lot of different things depending on context."

Martha Wells is a pantser, she's admitted to it. I'm sure she didn't intend that last meaning. But what if she did?

Our first introduction to Overse is on page 14 of All Systems Red (all page numbers are from hardback editions), where we get "I carried Bharadwaj up the ramp into the cabin, where Overse and Ratthi were frantically unclipping seats [...] their horrified expressions when they took in what was left of my upper body through my torn suit" (All Systems Red 14). Not very patient yet, given the description that the words "frantically" and "horrified" imply. But a few pages later, Overse and Arada have stabilized Bharadwaj by the end of the ride, and in the end of the chapter she's presumably among the group worrying in the mess. Soon after, when MB announces that there's a deleted part of the hazard report, it notes that "The reaction to that in general was pretty pissed off. There were some loud complaints from Pin-Lee and Overse and dramatic throwing-hands-in-the-air from Ratthi" (ASR 29). In a traumatic situation, it's understandable that everyone is a little panicked and nobody's being patient, but Overse seems to be able to work, even when she's upset by the situation.

By the time they're thinking about going to DeltFall, we have a little more info about Overse. Arada asks about recharging at DeltFall and "Overse put an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder" before explaining (ASR 47). MB even notes that "As a couple, they were always so nice to each other" (ASR 47). Arada is a little naive about the Corporate Rim, as evidenced by her questions here, the "terminal optimist" line in Network Effect, and just everything else. Overse, however, knows what's going on, and moreover, the combination of action and words, plus MB's statement that they are "nice" to each other, combines to create a patient tone when she's explaining.

During the rest of the book, Overse mostly shows up in the group scenes, in which she's a voice for reason, if just as worried as the rest of them. She appears briefly at the end of Exit Strategy, but not for long. When she really becomes a force of patience is in Network Effect.

In the first chapter, she "would be upset if I let her marital partner get killed" and "had shouted" at MB on the comm before that (Network Effect 11-12). However, she remains calm enough to warn Ratthi to get off the comm with the raiders and prepare the facility for launch, even through her worry. Shortly after, she notes to MB that it's been really supportive of Arada and how helpful that's been, and it notes that "[Arada] and Overse had always been firmly in the 'least likely to abandon a SecUnit to a lonely horrible fate' category, which was always the category I was most interested in" (NE 40). From it, that's an impressive compliment and a sign of Overse's ability to remain calm enough to make kind decisions while under immense stress.

This is born out a few pages later when Overse and Ratthi are in the control deck during the attack on the baseship and facility. "Both looked frantic," MB says, but it also notes that "frantic was the right reaction" and that there's no comm or feed (NE 43). Immediately afterward, Arada arrives, and "Overse's face twisted with relief and she bit her lip hard" (NE 44). After knowing that her wife is safe, Overse is more able to handle the situation. She gets comm partially active another page later, handles evacuation and separation well (though she and Arada both let their protectiveness for each other and the rest of the crew override their self-preservation instincts), and comes up with the idea of getting MB and Amena into EVAC suits as well as helping "cannibalize four of the EVAC suits aboard" to stabilize the safepod (NE 135).

Once removed from the immediate stress of almost dying, Overse demonstrates the ability to control her initial reactions (she "grimaced and rubbed her eyes" at ART's declaration that it won't leave till it gets what it wants, then communicates silently with Arada) and handles ART's demands with patience (NE 140). For instance, ART says it didn't plan to attack the facility, and she responds, "But it was your idea," with narrowed eyes (NE 141). I hate to make a personal anecdote in an analytical essay, but this is exactly the attitude my mother takes when I do something and she's trying to be patient but also communicate that I did a stupid. Same thing with their next group conversation with ART, where MB notes that she has a "'let's get this over with' expression," and when they first discuss the colony, where "Her expression had that grimly frustrated quality that was common when my humans talked about the corporates" (NE 149, 155). (What I'm saying is Overse is the mom friend lol)

There are two scenes later in NE that are especially telling. The first is in chapter 10, when Overse and Arada are on the way to check out engineering.

Arada and Overse had stopped in the corridor that went toward the engineering module. Arada hugged Overse, and Overse kissed her and said into her ear, "You can do this, babe. You're a bulkhead." "I'm a wibbly bulkhead," Arada muttered. (The wibbliness was why I trusted Arada. Overconfident humans who don't listen to anybody else scare the hell out of me.) Arada stepped back and smiled at Overse. "Got to get to work." (NE 164)

In this scene, Arada is worried; she's finally letting down the mask of command and letting Overse see how worried she is in a situation that is close to private. Overse responds in a manner consistent with the mention in ASR that they were always nice to each other, but she's more than just nice. Arada is upset in a way that's likely troubling to Overse, and Overse is able to calm her, be patient with her, and make sure that she's okay despite being worried about her.

The other scene in question is the infamous bunkroom scene, which deserves a whole separate meta about what's been told and what's left missing, but the simple summary is thus: in chapter 11, Arada agrees to go over to the Barish-Estranza ship, without consulting anyone else or making an informed decision. From then on, Overse is upset. Her initial response to the idea is "Fuck no," then "there was a big human argument" and "Overse said through gritted teeth, 'Rescuing you–or trying to recover your body–will not save us time'"(NE 202-03). A few minutes later, "Overse was still mad," and apparently needs "a chance to vent and calm down," which she gets by venting to Ratthi (NE 204). MB paraphrases, so we'll never know her exact words, but she apparently ends up "being angry at herself for getting angry at Arada during a crisis" (NE 205). She's able to calm herself down and be patient long enough to work with Arada, but it takes until the next chapter for MB to notice their relationship improving. The infamous bunkroom scene is really only a few lines:

Arada and Overse were back to getting along after spending time together in an unused bunkroom while we were traveling to the dock. I hadn't bothered to monitor them on ART's cameras or try to slip a drone in; the chances that they were having sex and/or a relationship discussion (either of which I would prefer to stab myself in the face than see) were far higher than the chance that they were saying anything I needed to know about. (I mean they might have been plotting against me, but you know, probably not.) (NE 230)

What's amazing is how much is communicated in the absence of any detail on what actually happened. Overse isn't mad anymore, not necessarily because there's a way to go back or to make it better (though they do seem to have negotiated a compromise about the next stressful situation), but because she's able to look past the situation and recognize that the best way to get back to a normal relationship with her marital partner is to overlook what happened.

To overlook. It can be a very easy thing to do, to overlook and ignore someone with a smaller role, such as Overse. To oversee something, to manage a whole bunch of things and ensure all of it goes correctly. But "överse" is also to be patient with, or to overlook flaws. And that is the core of Overse's character: she is the Patient One.

Not to say that I believe in nominative determinism, the idea that people gravitate towards work that match their name (Wikipedia). Martha Wells is a known pantser, and I doubt that this was a deliberate choice on her part. But she had to have a reason to choose the name Overse, even if that was just that it was on a list of words she liked. I want to imagine that the reason is that she knew she'd made a patient character and picked a name that secretly describes a patient person.

Sources:

"Nominative Determinism." Wikipedia, 25 Apr. 2024. Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Nominative_determinism&oldid=1220754650. Accessed May 31, 2024.

överse | SAOL | svenska.se. https://svenska.se/saol/?hv=lnr114060. Accessed May 14, 2024.

Wells, Martha, and Martha Wells. All Systems Red. First edition, Tom Doherty Associates, 2017.

---. Network Effect. First edition, Tom Doherty Associates, 2020.

[seneitut]

“Gentleness”

[Part 1] [Part 2]

[Yoru/Healer!Reader]

Words: 6K

Tags: Mentions of anxiouness, bantering, technicality of the game and map Haven, fluff, blood.

[This was long overdue!!!! It took me a long while but here is the first part! Second part coming tomorrow or in a couple of days! It also has drawings uwu Hope you like em!]

Resquested by: @oyasumimosura !!

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Breathing in, breathing out. 

Those are the words you've been repeating in your head for the past couple of minutes, trying to focus your sole attention on breathing instead of the anxiousness wanting to consume you. 

Opening your eyes, you gaze upon your reflection in the mirror with a nervous expression painting your features. 

The eye bags under your eyes are a telltale of the poor night's sleep you've gotten, and you hope no one looks closely to you to ask about it. There is nothing you can do to mask your exhaustion and the way you look, so you bear with it, avoiding the mirror and turning to stare at your unmade bed instead.

The tremble in your hands is manageable, you think, and so is the ability to mask your stress. But not even planning out your interactions nor replies to questions that haven't been asked yet, or never, is enough to relax you.

“Hey, you alright in there?” 

The voice of Sage is accompanied by soft knocking outside your door. The concern in her voice is palpable, since you haven't showed up yet and your reunion was due almost fifteen minutes ago.

“Y-yeah! Just, um, fixing my clothes.” You reply awkwardly, giving thumbs up to the closed door and immediately absconding your hands when you realize the dumb action. Sage doesn't need to know that. “I-I'm sorry for the lateness, I'll be going in a second…or several…”

There is silence for a moment, and you worry you may have upset her for being irresponsible.

Then, she speaks again, “Mind if I join you for a little bit?”

Weighting the pros and cons, you don't let your brain finish that train of thought and act upon your want.

Opening the door is a lot less anti-climatic than you initially thought. Instead, relief floods your system as soon as Sage steps in and takes your hands into hers, caressing the skin softly with a gentle expression on her features.

“I'm here.” she mutters, leading you to the bed. “Let's breathe together, alright?”

“I've been doing that.” is your reply. She smiles.

“Good, that's good.” Her hand never stops holding yours. “Do it once more with me, indulge me?”

You nod, following her instructions until your heartbeat pumps to a steady rhythm.

The breathing sessions for your anxiety is something you haven't done together in a long while. Maybe since she left China to pursue a more fulfilling life, leaving behind many friends and family who missed her dearly, and for you to learn to live without her by your side.

The thought that you've been reunited, even under not a joyful situation, is enough to make you smile and forget about what will cement your life from now on in a couple of minutes. Having her here, holding your hands and gently massaging the skin gives you a wave of nostalgia that you cannot help but tear up a little bit.

“What's wrong?” She asks, a frown between her brows. 

“I'm just…overwhelmed, I think.” Sniffing back some tears, you give her the best smile you can offer, but it falters under so much pressure. “It’s been so long since I’ve had you by my side. And I’m so worried about what is going to happen once I step out of this room because I don’t know if I’m going to be enough for the team nor don’t know if my qualities will fit and, what if I get killed? What if I get my teammates killed? What then?”

“Hey, hey, calm down.” She manages to have your attention, cutting your rambling off. The tears that were welling up have cleared up by now, which gives Sage a sense of comfort and one less thing to worry about. “You won’t mess things up, I have full trust in you and your judgment, it’s why I brought you here.”

“But-”

“No, dear, stop there.” Sage stands up, pulling you alongside her. “You’re gonna be okay, I will make sure of it. Do you trust me?”

You nod, “Of course I do!” 

“Then believe in my words. Everything is going to be okay.”

And you do. You trust Sage's words and follow after her without any doubt clouding your mind, but nervousness.

If she says you will be okay, you believe it.

—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—

The meeting you have is brief and to the point.

Sage introduces you to Brimstone, the one who founded Valorant and the one in charge to recruit agents to their lines to protect their world from radiants who come from another dimension.

The thing about having mirrors of themselves and having to fight them till death doesn't come as a surprise; rather new knowledge acquired and something to investigate for future reference, fascinated by such a thing.

Besides Brimstone there is another agent, Viper, who seems to be part of the lead in the protocol alongside Sage. She is sharp with her words and straightforward with her expectations, upfront with what she wants you to bring to the team and communicate what's needed.

All three, despite their differences in personalities, welcome you to what's going to be your home for the next years to come.

“We need you to train constantly,” is what Brimstone asks of you. “To have discipline and focus on missions. Besides our utility, having to learn self-defense and the usage of guns is important when we are deployed to prevent catastrophes.”

Vipes joins in the conversation, “Sage has mentioned you both have trained for a long time before all this disaster. I'm expecting nothing but the same skills and more from you.”

Gulping, you nod, “Of course.”

Sage glances at you from the other side of the room, spectating the conversation unfolding, and ready to chime in if necessary to help you out.

“Good.” Viper stands up from her chair after a couple of seconds, gathering her folders and hands you a sort of phone. “First mission assigned will be tomorrow. Ask Killjoy or Cypher for blueprints and get to know your teammates and their abilities before being deployed.”

The device is rectangle and the size of a cell phone, with the screen showing your name and a code to access it. 

“Configure this as you'd prefer, the agents use this to organize and contact each other when we are sent on missions.” Viper dials a password and the screen lights up in a soft glow to show folders and a message chat box. “Set a password to your liking and bring it with you if necessary.”

Eyeing the device, you breathe out your nervousness before directing her a smile, “Thank you.” 

“That will be it.”

Viper excuses herself after that, leaving the room swiftly with Brimstone following after her to discuss some matters. 

Is not after several seconds glancing between the door to where Sage was standing that you finally crumble under the pressure and groan in despair.

“Who the fuck is Killjoy? Or Cypher, for that matter? How am I supposed to configure this to my liking if this is work related?” You begin. “I don't even know my other teammates, how am I supposed to know their abilities and learn about them in such short notice?!”

Turning to Sage, your panic heightnes, “It hasn't been ten minutes and I'm already fucking things up!”

Sage huffs in exasperation, approaching you with a grin and ignoring your stare and pout, “Unlock the device, dear. Go directly to the first folder it shows, there are basic profiles with pictures and names of the other agents.” When you do as asked, she scrolls through the multiple faces staring at you, “You don't have to learn all their names at once, it takes time to become acquainted with most of them outside missions and the base is really big for everyone to be at one place.”

“B-but how will I know which one of them is assigned on the same mission as I do?” You are becoming rapidly anxious, hands trembling and completely out of the character you introduced yourself to Brimstone and Viper.

Sage caresses your back softly, “Once we ask Killjoy for the blueprints, we can ask her to lend us the name of the agents on the team.”

You nod, exhaling a big puff of air from the nervousness. 

Opening the device, you scroll through the list until you land on the name of Killjoy. The face of a woman in black hair and bright colored clothes greets you, and is for certain you won’t be able to miss her out if you were to encounter her.

“We can look for her together, if you wish?” Sage asks, grinning softly. 

“Please?”

With her reassurance and the knowledge of Killjoy's appearance, you exit the meeting's room with idle chatting to keep your mind occupied.

Sage is kind enough to start explaining Killjoy's abilities to fill in the silence. From her techwear and brilliant brain, she is one of the top techs inside the protocol alongside Cypher who have been able to develop technology not a simple human mind would understand.

All Killjoy is able to do sounds from a futuristic world, repairing and creating with the mere tools the earth provides her.

“She created the devices, programmed the security information with Cypher's help, and repaired one of the agents on our side.”

Cocking your head to the side, you ask, “Repair as in, fixed? Operated a limb or something like that?”

Sage giggles, “No, dear, she literally repaired an agent, from scratch and missing parts. A robot, if you may.”

When you cross the threshold of the practice range, you finally understand what she meant.

“A sentient robot?!”

Behind the closed doors, you see in amazement a robot-like-human fight alongside a couple of agents against another…robot? Firing bullets non-stop and jumping from side to side to avoid the agent's offensive stance.

“Killjoy seems to be training as well.” She muses. 

You watch in silence the fight unfold, analyzing their work and action while they mesh their abilities together to defeat the common enemy. Is amazing how flawless and swiftly they move across the battlefield to look for cover or simply repositioning to counterattack.

“Found you.” 

Brimstone's voice startles you, turning around to watch him enter the room with his eyes set on what's going on behind the glass.

“We need to leave in a few minutes; Breeze and Split.” He announces. Sage nods, pointing to the range.

“Got some people on here to join in.” 

He surveys the people inside, scratching his bear in contempt before sighing, defeated.

“Tell Raze to sit this one out and bring Astra, it is time to ruin the party for these youngsters.” Brimstone motions behind you, “Yoru, you're coming with them to Split, be there in fifteen.”

You hear a scoff, “Of course you need me.”

Turning around, you see a man sitting at the edge of the glass toying with kingdom credits at the palm of his hand. He's covered from head to toe in blue themed clothes, which you find funny for someone who looks as gloomy as he does.

Is it not after you're finished eyeing him do you realize he's been doing the same to you and scoffs again, as if offended, when your eyes cross paths.

Feeling self-conscious, you avoid him entirely for the rest of Sage and Brimstone's conversation.

“I'll be leaving now, Killjoy is coming with us too.” Sage points at the other side of the room, spotting a person playing chess by themselves and wearing some set of interesting clothing. “That's Cypher, you can talk to him about the blueprints, he is a kind man, but be careful of entertaining him with your personal information.”

“Huh?” 

Sage whispers in your ear, “He has eyes everywhere, be careful.”

Bidding goodbye to Sage proves to be harder than you anticipated, anxiousness starting to consume you the moment she leaves your side at a place you have no guidance nor idea how to navigate by yourself just yet.

The moment of truth comes now, you think, when you turn around and begin walking towards Cypher. He has not spotted you yet, continuing with his game in silence, and it gives you time to think about how to approach in conversation. 

So deep in thought, you collide against a surface so hard you have to take two steps back to steady yourself. When you raise your eyes, you meet Yoru's jet-black eyes staring you down with annoyance written on his expression.

“Move away, little shit.” 

Yoru pushes you away and enters the range, not glancing back for a second and makes his way to the group gathering at the center.

When the door closes, you hear a man chuckle deeply. 

“Say now, first day and causing trouble?” Cypher turns his head, a gloved hand toying with a coin. The blue of his masked and robotic eyes are eerie, it makes you uncomfortable, “Mind if we play a game?”

“Cypher, right?” you ask. He nods at the chess board.

“Glad to make acquaintances.”

Sitting in front of him, you watch him rearrange the pieces to start over a new game. He barely glances at you when he rotates the board for you to start first, waving his hand in presentation.

“Go on, let’s see what you’re made of.”

The first few moves none of you say anything, concentrating on the game rather than the task you’ve been asked to do. Is refreshing though, having something else to focus on. 

You’re partly thankful to Cypher for not obligating you to talk, humming to himself and enjoying the game in his own  way. His moves are very calculating and thoughtful, watching under scrutinized robotic eyes your movements and choices before making one for himself.

Is not until he has you on a chokehold that he leans on his chair, crossing his arms, that he decides to speak for the first time, “You are very patient, little one.”

“Hm?” Looking up, you smile nervously at him, “Isn't this game about that?”

Chuckling, Cypher moves his king and switches places with his rook, “Most of it, yes, of course. But this game is more about analyzing your enemy rather than being patient in making your moves.”

You move a pawn, Cypher kills it with his knight. Deciding to sacrifice the queen for a play, you kill one of his bishops.

“Check.” 

Cypher hums, thrumming his fingers on the table.

“Interesting.” 

He moves his king further away, you cock your eyebrow in questioning but don't say anything. Returning your queen to the previous positioning, you begin considering your next moves when suddenly, Cypher moves his knight an inch closer to your king. 

“Check.”

Huffing under your breath, you move your king, but by the time you notice what you've done, is already too late.

Cypher laughs, moving his rook to kill your king in one swift move, “Check mate.”

Your pouting elicits another laugh from the sentinel, toying with a coin between his fingers.

“You see, you would have won that if you were a little more observing.” he says, closing the chessboard and putting the pieces away. “My moves were easily readable, and my intentions clear. You had the upper hand when it comes to quantity in pieces but didn’t use it to your advantage.”

“I didn’t want to use it and lose them.” is your answer. “Didn’t even notice the position of your pieces, only the king.”

Cypher hums, nodding alongside your words, “Interesting, why is that?”

Flabbergasted at his question, you raise a brow, “What do you mean why? Isn’t that the whole point of the game?”

“Of course, the whole point is to corner the king, right? But why do you have more pieces at play if you aren’t gonna use them to fulfill the goal?”

Cypher leans in, tipping his hat back and squinting his blur orbs, “This game is about sacrificing things intelligently to obtain what you need.”

“Isn't sacrificing an odd word to use on a chess game?” you are at a loss to what he's trying to say.

“It applies to evertything, anything!” he smiles under his mask, but you are unable to see it. “Say, are you ready to do that on the battlefield? To sacrifice people to destroy the enemy?”

Frowning deeply, you begin to question the real intentions Cypher had when inviting you to this game. All you wanted was for some information regarding your mission tomorrow, not for some psychological reading from someone who you just met.

He seems pensive and awaiting, crossing his fingers and relaxing against his chair. Gulping down, you decide you don’t want to talk about this matter and rather ask for what you came in the first place.

“Sage told me you might know about my mission tomorrow and who are those assigned,” tugging at the ring in your index finger, you distract yourself to avoid looking him in the eyes. “Do you mind giving me the information?”

It takes him a while to answer you, eerie seconds where Sage's absence feels like a sore thumb and you start doubting your place at the protocol. 

When Cypher laughs, as if you've told a funny joke, it doesn't help with your anxiousness nor quell it. He doesn't seem bothered by your reaction, either, it almost looks like it fuels him to keep teasing you to his liking.

“Haven, China.” He replies, “Viper, Skye, Phoenix and Yoru.”

“I know Viper, I don't know the other three.”

“Better time to start learning then,” he says, “Get well known with the place, too, since is going to be quite the hastle.”

Blinking owlishly, you turn on your device to look for the names of the agents mentioned, scrolling through the list until you land on Phoenix and Skye, the ones you haven't met yet, and Yoru, the recent addition to your I'm scared of them list. 

To think you will have to team up with these menacing looking people has you trembling with fear. And to top it off, Sage won't be able to help you out if you were to have doubts, so this will be all you.

“When I asked you earlier if you were ready to sacrifice people for the sake of the goal, it wasn't just to poke fun or annoy you,” Cypher stands from the chair, tucking the chessboard under his arm. “Your teammates are ready to put you on the line if it means the enemy won't steal the radianite. You have to be willing to do the same.”

“My goal is for no one to perish on the mission.” you admit, mouth tugging into a frown. “I won't play with that mindset.”

He shrugs, “Suit yourself. But think about what I'm saying. There will be a moment where you will hesitate between a sacrifice that will help you, or die being foolish.”

Walking away, he bids you goodbye, “I wish you the best of luck on your first mission. I hope you don't die.”

With the bitter farewell and an unsettling feeling starting to bloom in your chest, you are left alone with your turbulent thoughts and a bad taste in your mouth.

Sage isn't there for when you break down.

x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x

The trip to Haven takes longer than expected.

It’s located near the mountains in China, close to most monk temples surrounding the green area and hiding from the biggest cities. 

When you first heard about its whereabouts and the chaos that ensued when the omega agents tried to attack it, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Horrified was a short term for what you felt when they showed the images of what was left of the ruins and what Kingdom had tried to do to extract the radianite and, later on, the omega agents.

Maybe this is the reason you were assigned to this mission; to face the atrocities the counterparts have done and want to do, and for you to protect a place that was once dear to your people.

Phoenix has sensed your apprehension when meeting them for the first time, and now he is witness to how much this first task was toiling on you. And to ease your worries and try to distract you, he’s been chatting with you since the moment you stepped on the jet, making silly jokes or bringing up different topics to keep your mind occupied.

Sadly, it seemed nothing was working, so perhaps it was better to take down the doubts from its roots.

“Seriously, girlie, by the time you have to rotate to any site, we will be done and ready to pack up and go home.” He places his hand on your shoulder, squeezing softly, but firmly. “You don't have to worry, alright?”

“Y-yeah, sure.” 

“Besides, you've got a team with the best agents at the protocol; we got you covered, aight?” 

Believing Phoenix's words is hard, but you nod anyway, thankful for his attempt to make you feel better and his constant reassurance. 

The hand that soothes your back and his warm smile is enough to calm your nerves, returning the kind smile and simply breathing to keep you steady.

From the other side of the jet, Yoru grimaces at your heartfelt conversation, finding it pointless and somewhat cheesy to try and comfort a soldier who is about to face a war they are obviously not ready for. 

Not his place to intervene, in truth, but he hopes you won't ruin this mission for any of them. It would be a pain in the ass to drag your dead body back to the headquarters and have to explain this to Sage.

“Relax that frown, mate, we haven't engaged in combat yet.” 

Skye stands next to him, a playful smile on her lips and crossing her arms. He only huffs, annoyed to be interrupted but fine enough to be talking to her.

“The newbie will probably stall us, why assign her to us?” he asks. Skye raises a brow. “We can probably bring Killjoy's turret and that thing might do more for the team than her.”

“Hey now, you are just being rude for no reason.” She chastises. “Besides, that’s a big one coming from someone who flashed the rest of his teammates on their first mission.”

Blushing, Yoru turns his head to the other side, grunting unpleasantly. “Is not my fault you don’t know how to avoid flashes.”

“Oh yeah?” Skye whistles, catching Phoenix and your attention, “Yoru here says we don’t know how to avoid flashes, ain’t that bullshit now?”

“What now?! Aren’t you the one who complains the most about my flashes here?” Phoenix leaves your side to go and defend his honor, “You are such a selfish bastard, always working on his own, tsk.”

Phoenix turns to you, pointing an accusatory finger at Yoru, “Careful tagging with him, this ass will probably bait the heck outta yo’ ass to kill the enemy.”

“Not to mention he won’t listen to any of our strategies when we get there, hah.” Skye rolls her eyes, sitting down next to you. “Say, I know you are Sage’s protegé, but we don’t know what you can do, care to fill me in? Mayhaps you can also flash for us.”

Giving a dry laugh, your eyes travel to Phoenix who is watching you with excitement in his eyes, obviously eager to listen to your answer. Yoru is glaring at you from accross the jet, arms crossed on top of his chest and just like the rest, awaiting for your reply.

“Um, I don't flash.” You tug at your cuffins to distract yourself, “I can heal, I can revive people, too.”

“You're basically saying you are Sage 0.2, right?” Yoru rolls his eyes, bored of such an underwhelming revelation. 

Phoenix slaps his shoulder, frowning, “Don't be rude.”

“Am I wrong, though?” 

“That's a poor choice of words, Yoru.” Skye chimes in. “If their abilities are similar, then we have a strategy to work around easily.”

“But I—”

“Oh yeah? The difference is way too big for you to not notice that we will be playing like guards so she can heal us. Or better yet, revive us.” The engines of the jet turns off, signaling they have arrived. “At least Sage does her part in killing the enemies.”

Before anyone could retort to him, Yoru stands and takes his vandal with him, opening the door and simply walking out.

Viper comes out of the cockpit with a bulldog in hand, mask on and a determined fierce gaze surveying her teammates.

“Is there any problem?” She asks, cocking an eyebrow. 

Phoenix huffs, shrugging his shoulders, “The usual with Yoru.”

She nods in understanding, reloading her weapon and signaling you to follow after her.

“Yoru will be taking A site with Skye, Phoenix will survey C site with me holding garage doors,” turning to you, she throws a phantom at your hands. “You will wall up B site and hold site, leaning towards A if necessary. We will defend and hold as long as we can, if the pressure gets the better of you, we will retake together.” 

“Righty-o” Skye replies. She grabs a guardian and sets off. Phoenix pats your back and gives you a thumbs up before setting off to his designated site.

Viper walks away without giving you another glance, sure of herself and the indications given. 

Despite feeling like you could trust Phoenix's words and believe in your teammates, the dread of anything going wrong clouds your mind deeply.

There is nothing you can do right now, but play your part calmly.

Haven is prettier in person, with foliage decorating part of the landside and tall trees hovering in the distance. The destroyed part of this place is painful to see, but you know there is nothing else you can do, except protect it as best as your abilities.

B site has an entrance in the middle overlooking mid and window; there are many angles to hold and so little to gamble if you were not sure of your aim. There is some reason as to why Viper asked you to wall it up and simply hold.

If the enemy were to take control of B site, the retake would be pretty difficult to handle.

“The Omega agents have landed just now.” Skye says through the earpiece. “We heard some commotion towards A short, but they haven't made their way yet.”

“Keep us updated. Let me know when to put up the smoke.” Is Viper's reply.

Breathing in heavily, you heard faint footsteps outside B site, close to window and walking towards garage doors. Your hands twiches, hesitant of walling up or simply hold an angle.

Should you warn her? Should you be saying something? The logic tells you to raise your wall to boost yourself up and peak mid, but you are terrified of facing more than you can handle.

“I heard people outside B site, Viper, be careful.” And sure enough, it is not until a few seconds later that you hear a bulldog fire and Viper's voice coming through after a few moments.

“Got the one in garage, I heard one running away. Still no sign of the spike.”

Phoenix's voice chimes in, “No one is C long either, these damn fuckers scared or something? I can start flanking them.”

“Hold your positions until we get further intel.” Viper contradicts, “We have the numbers, we don’t need to risk it. Be patient.”

A couple of seconds goes by, and from afar, you hear the hit pitched sound of a bird and popping, and from the sky, you see balls of smoke drop like bombs towards A site.

Panic seizes you the moment Skye's voice comes through the earpiece with gunshots in the background. Viper’s wall rises immediately and you lose sight of mid, frightened and alarmed that something might have happened to them.

“I’m walling up B site and helping them hold the site.” You call through the earpiece, you see Phoenix approach rapidly through C link. “Viper, are you holding garage for a rotation or will you flank?”

“I’m holding the site, go help them.” 

Phoenix nods at you, a determined expression on his face. “Let’s go.”

All that comes after that is a blur.

You remember listening to Yoru grunt through the comms, Phoenix ulting from CT when you enter the site without any regards to your wellbeing and, most of all, pain.

Is as chaotic as you might think, smokes everywhere, Viper’s screams through the earpiece, warning you about Omega Sage reviving the one she killed in garage and Viper having to back down because she got hurt.

You have lost the count on how many times you’ve been flashed by the enemy and your own teammates because you were careless; throwing yourself on the battlefield and firing bullets through the smoke to stop their advances because you didn’t know what to do. 

Once Viper’s wall runs out of toxin, you are way too deep into site to look for cover, facing both Omega Brimstone and a Sova pointing their guns at you. 

A chill runs down your spine when they fire at you, watching in slow motion as the bullets make their way to your head and you are unable to stop your demise.

You feel a tug on your waist, and suddenly, you are standing at CT while the firing continues.

A sudden wave of nausea hits you, losing your footing and landing against a firm chest for leverage. Looking up, you see Yoru frowning at you, arms holding onto your waist and barely being able to hold his own weapon to steady you.

“Get a grip of yourself, we need to get back there.” he exclaims, but doesn’t pushes you away.

Phoenix returns right at that moment, his ult running out of time and been able to restore to full health once again. 

When he sees you two standing there, he immediately panics.

“Skye is alone out there!” Reloading his gun, he pushes through the smoke. 

You grip your phantom, thanking Yoru with a soft whisper and following after Phoenix to try and help Skye out before it is too late. You hear his teleport, guessing he’s throwing himself into battle once again.

You follow after Phoenix through the smoke and, to your horror, he serves as a shield when Omega Reyna swings from A short, injuring him heavily but giving you enough time to use him as a distraction to kill her.

Running past him, you clear as many corners as you can until you reach A long to see Skye protect Yoru from Omega Sage and Killjoy, headshotting her and watching the body fall to the ground with a loud thud.

When you realize both Skye and Yoru relax their stances, you think you can finally breathe in peace.

The enemy has fallen, and Valorant protocol is victorious once again.

Walking carefully around the bodies, you approach Yoru who hisses in pain when Skye helps him stand up. He mutters something in his language that neither you nor Skye understand, but the japanese man doesn’t bother to say further.

Eyeing Skye, you notice she seems unscratched despite putting herself on the line bravely, barely one cut above the eyebrow but nothing to worry about. 

Sighing in relief for her safety, you turn to Yoru, raising a hand and laying it on his cheek that has an open wound bleeding. Besides that and a limp leg, you think you have enough energy to heal him and look for Phoenix afterwards.

But either he misinterpreted your actions or didn't need the help, he cowers from your touch and swats your hand away, scowling.

“Don't touch me.” He snarls while glaring down at you. It makes you freeze instantly.

You are suddenly reminded of your first meeting and his obvious disgust towards your person, backing away until there is a safe distance between you two and Yoru drops his defensive stance.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” you say.

Turning around to avoid eye contact, you walk towards where you last saw Phoenix to give your assistance. The poor man has his back against the graffiti wall, sitting on the floor and taking big intakes of air to regulate his breathing and not succumb to the agony.

There are bullet holes framing his arms and one near the stomach, causing him pain and discomfort if he were to move too much. His expression is nothing short but misery, trying to play it cool by smiling at you but you know better, brushing part of his hair off his face.

“I'll look for Viper to heal her, think you are okay with Phoenix?” Skye's hand lands on your shoulder, startling you. Yoru is behind her, blood dry but not a single scratch on him. “Yoru is patched up, so don't worry about him.”

You nod, “I'll take care of Phoenix.”

Once Skye leaves, you return your attention towards Phoenix wounds and lay your hands on his arm and one on his stomach, wincing when he whines and tries to back away from the pressure.

Your hands glow a soft cyan and you close your eyes, concentrating your whole power on those zones alone. The both of them watch with different layers of wonder the injury being healed instantly without leaving any trace of scars. 

Only the fabric of his jacket is damaged beyond repair, blood still staining the fabric and part of his skin, you only hope Phoenix forgives you for not being able to fix that.

But it doesn't seem to be his concern once you're done and subtly look at him for approval, biting your lip in nervousness and awaiting his reaction.

Phoenix turns his arm around for a second, flexing his fingers to notice that not even the injury was gone, but the pain on his whole arm has been washed away as well. 

He watches in amazement the last remaining of light coming from you before pouncing on your form with delight.

“Girl, you shoulda told me you were this impressive with the healing!” his arm goes around your shoulder, giving you a playful squeeze while grinning. “Did you save Yoru's ass too? Thank you!”

You only get to nod, smiling softly at his enthusiasm and feeling your face warm with his attention.

“Yoru didn't want me to touch him.” You can feel the japanese man's eye burning at the back of your head, but ignore him to keep talking with Phoenix. “And I guess Skye's healing is better than mine, so I couldn't offer assistance.”

“Nah, it's aight, girlie.” Phoenix winks, getting closer to whisper in your ear, “Yoru likes natural healing, either way, don't take it personal.”

Suddenly, the British boy is ripped away from you. You watch, to your horror, Phoenix getting punched right on his face.

You watch as he falls to the ground, groaning in pain and caressing the tender skin affected and getting swollen as the seconds passes by.  When you redirect your attention, Yoru's face is morphed to what could be described as pure annoyance and anger, breathing in heavily and scowling at his friend sprawled on the floor after taking the hit this easily. 

You don’t know whether to intervene or let them resolve this problem by themselves, but seeing as Yoru approaches to keep this onslaught on going, you decide is best to de-escalate things.

Standing up from where you sat, the best course of action is to ignore Yoru and simply help Phoenix get to his feet and lead him to the jet to reunite with your missing teammates. 

Phoenix lets himself be handled by your caring touch, apologizing when your hand hovers over the skin of his cheekbone and for troubling you. You bite your tongue, swallowing back words of reassurance to him but indirect blame to Yoru; the least you want is for him to look for a reason to fight you, too.

“It's just swollen up, I can heal it once we are on air, is that alright?”

“Yeah, no problem!” He seems ruffled and a bit flustered, but grins as if nothing has happened. 

Taking Phoenix by the arm, you don’t dare to look back and guide him to the jet. If Skye and Viper are awaiting your arrival you’re not sure, but anywhere is better than hanging in the bad atmosphere Yoru has created.

You cannot wait to get back to the base and sleep the day away.

[kipperlillyforpresident]

FAQ / about

I had so many feelings about KLCK that I decided to make this blog to contain them. I genuinely really like her as a character and I've been really bummed out by how a lot of fans talk about her, so here I am.

A self-indulgent FAQ about my thoughts on KLCK is under the cut. You are under no obligation to read them, obviously. But hey, in case you're wondering about the nitty-gritty of my emotions - go on ahead!

q: You know she killed people, right?

Yes. She is being infected by a god of rage and also a lot of our favorite loveable characters have ALSO done murders and also god forbid women do anything <3

q: Strawman question about the affirmative action/DEI hater Kipperlilly interpretation - what do you think of that?

I think that canonically, within the lore of D20, halflings are a colonized race who are seen as a "model minority", and I think it's a little tasteless to go that angle with her character. Purposefully calling this one a strawman question because I admittedly cannot be unbiased on this matter.

q: Don't you think it's fucked up that she was jealous of Riz's dad being dead?

yes of course it was fucked up thats the point thats what makes her INTERESTIING

Also, I must stress this: she told Jawbone about this jealousy in a private counseling session. You know. The place where you are supposed to work through your worst intrusive thoughts.

Finally, my dad died when I was 17, so I'm giving her permission to indulge in this fantasy. Guys its fine its fineeee SHE CAN RECLAIMM

q: Do you think she's right about literally every single thing?

No of course not. She's so wrong. That's what makes her interesting.

q: Do you really think she should be the student body president?

From an in-universe perspective? no she is being infected by a god of rage <3 from a storytelling perspective? absolutely. i've found kristen's campaign to be the weakest and most frustrating arc of this season by far, and i think it'd be narratively hollow for her to actually win after All That.

q: Wait, you hate Kristen's campaign? Is this a Kristen hate blog?

Yes I do, and no it is not! Kristen is an interesting case, because I really do find her interesting from an in-universe perspective. At times, I think she can be one of the most tragic and complex characters. She is just a teenage girl who has had far too many burdens placed upon her!

But when we look at Kristen as the sum of her parts, as a player in the narrative... I'm not a huge fan of a lot of the choices Ally has made. This is supposed to be the season where chaos stops being cute, and as we rapidly approach the finish line, I still don't see that promise being held.

(Also, I hate to have to pre-emptively do this defense, but: I literally have ADHD. I am aware that Ally is playing Kristen as somebody with ADHD. That doesn't change my perspective on much.)

q: What does it say about you that you preemptively made this defensive FAQ?

That I like to hear myself talk too much, and that I have engaged in far too much discourse in my youth.

q: What is your main blog?

@mozukumi :-)

[pianapplez]

Hello there 👋👀,

So I just found your blog and had a lot of fun scrolling through all the pjo show crit😂 I couldn't help but notice that one tag you left on a post where you said you had some beef with Annabeth's portrayal in the books 👀 Would you mind elaborating on that if you're comfortable with it🙈? Because I absolutely share that sentiment, but it's sooo veeeery rare that I see other people express anything like it... I've found that trying to be a part of the fandom can be pretty alienating most of the time, if you're not exactly the biggest most devoted Percabeth shipper...😅 And often any criticism leveled at Annabeth just gets you a smack with the "internalized-misogyny" hammer... it's even worse in the tv show now due to... obvious reasons...

Again just if you're comfortable with answering of course🙈 There is a reason I stayed on anon after all...😅😂

Really glad you asked because i finally get to ramble about this heheheh (going forward, know that i skimmed over The Last Olympian to have a clearer sense of what I meant because that's the book where Rick fumbles her character more than the others)

i'm gonna try to make as much sense as possible but short answer would be, she's underdeveloped. Long answer:

She really got on my nerves in the last two books, with the whole Rachel debacle and then the Battle of New York. I can't really remember a single moment in those books where she and Percy aren't bickering or having heated discussions, which really made me question their friendship status. Of course, it's not like friends can't fight and it obviously builds up the (romantic) tension between them, but it got unbearable at one point.

I understand she's a teenager in an incredibly stressful situation that didn't even get to have a normal upbringing- she grew up way too fast (run away at 7, head counselor at 12) while also not really maturing, which is not a problem for a character, if it is handled properly. Given the fact that I am writing this, Riordan did not.

On the surface, my biggest beef is that Annabeth is not exactly held accountable for her actions (ie. treating Rachel a bit like shit and going off on Percy for a bunch of stuff.) I know Percy is to blame a bit here: as far as we know, in TLO he basically cuts the greek world out of his life as much as he can as a coping mechanism. And while yes, he never apologizes either, he doesn't give her nearly half the hard time she gives him: always either giving him the cold shoulder (there must be at least one example of this in the entire series but i cant be bothered to look it up sorry) or starting an argument only to then storm off (see the "you're a coward, Percy Jackson!" scene, which is not the fairest example since she was confronting Percy about ignoring camp but also was a bit too harsh about it) (especially after finally reading the prophecy and being under the impression that he was absolutely going to die when he turned 16 lmao) or just straight up storming off (see, Annabeth reacting when Rachel shows up for the first time during the battle of new york). While most of these feel, at least to some degree, fairly justified given how the entire situation does an absolute number on her emotions, she comes off a bit brattish and like she's trying to rile Percy up, especially when it comes to Rachel, which in the context of a battle that could mean the destruction of the world.... Well, it reads as a bit childish to me, and i wouldn't exactly have that much of a problem with it if it was dealt with in some way (a two-way apology would be nice).

After that first impression, i realized that Annabeth is barely ever anything else other than a plot device (when relating to Luke) or a love interest (when relating to Percy). This might be because the books are on Percy's POV. Hell, on the third book he's even conflicted when Annabeth is considering joining the Hunters of Artemis, aka, when making a choice for herself would mean he loses her (which is fine and dandy but it feels like Percy is more upset about her choosing her own path rather than being sad about not seeing her as often); we really only get a few glimpses of her, as in, actually her when she's on her own.

Obviously it's impossible to talk about Annabeth without touching on percabeth, which also is, in my opinion, what hinders Annabeth's character the most. On paper they sound great. The guy whose fatal flaw is loyalty falls in love with a girl whose been let down by people over and over, and she decides to never give up on the boy whose always had people give up on him (can't find one of the million posts that talks about this right now but it always goes something like that) And yeah, the bickering is really well written! But that's literally as far as it ever goes: they don't ever seem to have fun together, because 8 times out of 10 the bickering ends up being passive aggressive, and mostly done by Annabeth. My biggest gripe about percabeth is that their friendship seems to be based off... shared trauma. Literally. Other than going on quests together we are given no examples of them hanging out, nor a reason why they would want to spend time together in the first place, not even a shared hobby. Yes, in the fourth book they had a movie "date" planned but of course they didn't even get to it, and surprise surprise, they had a minor discussion, and surprise surprise, Annabeth was passive aggressive again. It's hard to picture them having fun together when even the author doesn't write in any scenes in which they get along smoothly (and before you say anything, a scene in which they get along where neither of them is about to die, and they're not talking about previous adventures. Gets a bit hard then, doesn't it?) It's even harder to picture them as a couple when the moment she gets upset about something, she starts coming off as emotionally manipulative (see, again, literally any conversation with Rachel or about Rachel)

To be fair, the books are relatively short and don't allow many "filler" chapters, if you will; there's always something happening to keep the main plot or a minor plot point moving forward, but it's not like there is no room to develop the characters' relationships, especially when we're talking about the main char and what is essentially his endgame. As an example we have Percy and Clarisse, or Percy and Beckendorf. Their interactions are brief but still hold so much weight.

Worst of all, Annabeth could be one hell of a character; what's most interesting of all is how being a daughter of Athena she is still incredibly emotionally driven, which is displayed very clearly with her fatal flaw being pride: her telling the Sphynx that her questions were too easy was not smart nor strategic: it was completely impulsive. I seriously think she wasn't far from being the best character in the series had she been given more time.

I guess i have as much beef with Annabeth as i have with Rick for doing her dirty. I really could sum this up with: while her emotions are justified, she acts upon them quite poorly. And this is what i mean when i say she's underdeveloped, because it would've been nice to see her come to her senses a bit.

Would love to read anyone's opinions on her character though, feel free to comment, even (or especially) if you don't agree with me!

[spicyclover]

Ultimatum | Part four

Summary: You give Charles an ultimatum. His apartment or you.  

Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four | Part five

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

WARNING: All the information in this text is pure fiction, and the names and addresses are strictly fictive. I’m not a lawyer also, so I’m sorry if the procedure isn’t exact or conventional. Please bear with me.

It was only on the morning of Christmas Eve, the 24th, that you received a notification from your lawyer.

You opened your email, and what you saw left you speechless. 

Y/n Y/L/N

24 Av. de la Costa

Monte-Carlo, Monaco, 98000

December 24th 2022

To the honourable avocat 

Mr.Charles Leclerc applies for full custody of the child he made with Y/n Y/L/N. At the child's birth, he applied for full custody due to the unstable actions of the named companion. He asks for a no permission for the mother to have contact with the child once it is born. This motion is under inspection by Judge Carpinelli. He asks the child's mother to report to the court of Monaco for a session on 24 January. Meanwhile, a request to contact the doctor in charge of the pregnancy and in progress. Mr. Charles Leclerc also requests access to the accused's address to obtain the necessary documents for this procedure. Given the information above, my client is asking the court to order the child to live with him full-time without authorized contact with the mother. He also requests compensation for the emotional damage your client put him through. 

Sincerely  Lawyer Felipe Rossi.  

“What the fuck?” You gasp, trying to understand what's in front of you. 

You read the email several times before you understand what it means. He wants to take away your parental rights. “How can he do that?” The little device that control your level of stress starts going on. 

“Honey, what’s going on?” Question your mother worried about your sudden change of mood and the biping starting.

You don’t have the strength to speak and give her your laptop. She takes several minutes to process what she’s reading. “How could he do that?”

“He’s asking for full custody.” She mumbles under her breath. 

“He can’t do that.” Your voice breaks, trying to make sense of this whole situation. 

You didn’t think it would go that far. You suddenly feel betrayed and out of control. All your choices come back to you and all the conversations you’ve had with him, too.

“Well, apparently, he can.” Your mother adds given her husband the computer for him to read. “Since you refuse to let him be the father.”

“I do not deny that he is the father; I just don’t want to be around him right now.”

“Will you let him be around when the baby is born?” Ask your mother. 

“I... I don’t know. He hurts me, mom.” You burst into tears. 

“I know. But he’s powerful, and he has a lot of contacts.”

“Oh, my god...” This situation is going out of control, and your breathing quickens. This whole thing is starting to become a nightmare, and you didn’t think he was capable of that much cruelty.

A panic attack invades you, and you start to hyperventilate, unable to calm down. You begin to get dizzy, and your parents try to help you, at least they can, but impossible. How can he do that to you? After all, he did. He’s the one who slept with that girl. He’s the one who didn’t listen to you. He’s the one who didn’t want your comfort. He’s... he’s... horrible.

You start walking like a lion in a cage, your breathing gets overwhelmed, and you faint. The bipping going crazy. 

Charles can’t believe what he just did. All his dark thoughts and those around him encourage him to take up this voice. He knows it’s wrong, and he’s the wrong one. Why is he doing this? He doesn’t even know himself. Everyone’s rocking in his head, and he can’t back down.

The letter was sent, and his lawyer was notified. A sense of shame takes hold, and he can’t even look at himself in the mirror in his lawyer’s waiting room.

You wake up an hour later and calm down. Your thoughts gather, and you manage to sort without being overwhelmed. You gradually regain control of yourself. You feel your little girl agitating in your belly and caressing it distractedly. Feeling her close to you reassures you.

You find yourself alone in your room looking out the window at the seagulls flying. The sound of the ocean soothes you and you feel your tension return. The little bip machine the doctor gave you on your last visit to control your stress is slowing down again. The bip stops and you go downstair. 

You decided to call him on your mother's cellphone.

“Hello?” You hear his voice for the first time in weeks, and tear fills your eyes. “Hello? Who’s this?”

“Charlie...?”

“Y/n? It’s you?”

“Charlie, why do you do this to us?”

“Mon Dieu, babe, where are you? Are you okay?”

“Why do you keep doing this to us?” You cry on the phone, unable to breathe correctly and you device going on again. 

“Amour, where are you? Are you alone? What’s that bip? Are you in danger?” He asks panicking a little. 

“You hurt me, and I have to pay the consequence. You can’t do that to me.”

“Y/n, you took my child with you.”

“She’s still in me, you idiot. Of course, she has to go where I go.” You snap, getting frustrated by him. 

“Hey, you’re the one who disappeared, not me. I did not leave in the middle of the night without any warning or information.” He yells through the phone, frustrated to not have you with him. 

“You’re the one who jeopardizes our relationship, sleeping with other girls, humiliating me in front of everybody and screaming at me in the middle of the fucking street. And I’m the one who’s making mistakes here? You’re insane.” You scream back, your mother forcing you to seat down. 

“Fuck, you don’t realize how worried I am when I discover you were gone, and none of your friends didn’t know where you were either. You just disappear, and then you text my assistant a week before Christmas and not even me.” 

“Do you think it’s easy for me to deal with all of this alone?”

“Hey! You’re the one who left.”

“Because I’m mad at you. Not because I stop loving you.” You says calming down again. 

“You...”

“I love you. I love everything about you, Charles. But you keep hurting me and making mistakes that force me to band my moral to go around it. What happened with that girl? Was she worth jeopardizing our relationship? I’m so mad and in pain. You put me there, and now you don’t want me to be around my child, the one I’m carrying. The one you didn’t want at the beginning of all this. You can’t do this to me. Not after everything you did.”

“I...”

“I don’t want to talk anymore. I'll see you on the 24th.” You hang up the phone tossing it across the room. You apologize to your mother realizing you just destroy her phone, but she just shush you out of the room to your bedroom to get some rest. Real rest. 

You cried for hours this afternoon, trying to figure everything out. After the tears came depression, and then, and only after that, came the anger. You were mad. No, furious. You know all this didn’t come from him but from his mom. You know she will do anything to protect her son and take responsibility for his actions. 

You spend your entire Christmas Day in bed, unable to move or speak. You didn’t want to eat but forced yourself for your baby girl. Every time you rub your belly, you miss the touch of Charles on it. You miss him more than anything, but you wanted to prove to him and yourself that you didn’t need him. 

You made an effort to eat with your family the night of Christmas. Everyone tried to cheer you up, but something was broken in you. You really lost him, and you really lost Charles. All this drama put so much pressure on you that the same night, you start bleeding. 

You decided not to take any chance and went to the hospital. Right away, they took charge of you. You waited hours for the doctors to give you news, but nothing. You weren’t surprised because you were the 25th and everybody was celebrating with their family, but all this wait made you worried even more. 

Charles was with his family having dinner when his phone rang. 

“Hello?” 

“Charles, Charles Leclerc?” Ask your mother.

“Yes?”

“Y/M/N, Y/n mother. Y/n is in the hospital.” She says straight to the point.

“What?” 

“She’s in the hospital. She was losing blood, and we went directly to check it out. I’m not supposed to be calling you right now, and she didn’t want to worry you. But you’re the father and she loves, misses you very much.” She explains herself off tone. 

“Where are you?” 

“I’m not sure, she wants to see you, Charles.”

“I’m her boyfriend and the father. I'm coming. Tell me which hospital!” He orders directly, not missing this opportunity. 

“Centre hospitalier de la Côte Basque.” She hangs up the phone after whispering the information.

“She’s in France. All this time, she was this close,” he thinks, hanging up the phone. He rushes inside and excuses himself to everyone before taking his coat and leaving promptly. 

Charles didn’t waste any minute, and he drove for hours. He arrives at at 4 am the morning at the destination, and he barely parks his car and rushes inside. Almost screaming at the receptionist to find out where you are. 

You are in your room, sleeping with your mother stocking your head gently. After crying, you finally fell asleep. Breathing finally normally, you weren’t dreaming, and it was better this way. 

Charles sprint through the corridor before finding your room. He takes the time to catch his breath before passing a hand in his hair. He opened the door carefully. Your father gets up from his chair and grabs him by the collar the minute he walks in. 

“You have some nerve coming here after what you did to her, you piece of shit.” 

“I... I’m sorry.” 

“Y/F/N, let him go.” Speaking up, your mother, getting up and taking her husband's arm. 

Your father took several minutes before releasing his grip and walking away. 

“She’s sleeping right now. They sedated her.” 

“Is she okay? And the baby?” 

“Like you care about her,” pester your father, sitting back in his chair.

“I do...”

“Oh really, when?”

“I know. I didn’t want this to happen, so I messed up. But I love her. I really do.” 

You start to wake up. Wriggles in the hospital bed. You sight, trying to vanish the vapour of the drug. 

You slowly opened your eyelids, trying to get used to daylight. Still unaware of the atmosphere in the room, you moan, trying to change position. Your catheter hurts, and you blow a good blow before opening your eyes.

You search for your mother, but your eyes fall on Charles, who approaches you.

“Charles?” 

“Oui, mon amour.” He says, taking place next to you.

To be continued... 

Tag list: 

@mloyer @heavengirls111 @janeholt3 @ggaslyp1 @tall-tanned-tattoo @queenanababy @91vhs @dreamerrosie @pleasedontfollowimlost @kuskumu @lissimountf1 @sbgal​

[b3achysurfur]

ok so I don’t believe Aiden is dead. there’s a lot of reasoning behind why I think this, but it’s very vauge because all my theories lead down two separate paths.

SBG CHAPTER 60 SPOILERS AHEAD

idk if y’all noticed the computer like affect around this scene but it only happens three times. All of which are in Ashlyn’s perspective of the incident.

in the second photo, the computer like fliter only appears on ashylns face, the view of Aiden is mostly clear.

I have a lot of questions, and I haven’t picked a theory/explaintion for sure yet, but one of my ideas are that it’s Ashlyn’s fear completely taking over here. We already knew from the beginning of sbg that ashyln often doubts what she sees, as if she doesn’t trust her eyes to tell the truth. we’ve seen her make up excuses and fake scenarios to cope with her reality and things she’s doesn’t understand. This is not her fault though, as we’ve seen it links back to her childhood.

She can often times be pessimistic about situations, always readying for the worst situation to happen as if it’s the only way things could go down. This also relates to her childhood.

Given these two facts, as well as the disorienting fliter over Aiden’s body and her facial expressions, i think it’s safe to assume that Aiden’s injuries are not as life threatening as they appear to be. Yes, I know a ceiling fell on him, I’m not saying he’s not badly injuried. But I don’t think it will provoke a reaction in his real-world body as it did for Tyler, or at least not one as serious.

this side of his face is almost completely fine, minus a few bruises (given some are from the car crash). although, since it’s a head injury, it only takes one side of his head to be damaged for it to be life threatening. But the biggest impact is to his jaw/cheek, not necessarily his skull.

also, the computer-like fliter goes away as soon as another person is thrown into the equation. The streaks return to their normal color of white, and the werid glitch affect on them disappear.

see how the streaks start glitching as soon as ashlyn notices Aiden’s in deathly trouble? Almost as if it’s not real/something is off. We’ve never seen these glitches before (trust me I pay attention to these things).

anyways back to the image before this where Taylor grabs Aiden. The fliter is gone, and ashlyn snaps back into reality with the help of Taylor and her instructions. Taylor’s reaction is to immediately get Aiden under something safe. This part gets a little messy since we don’t have any scenes after this to show which explaintion makes more sense but wtv. Either Taylor is full of adrenaline and is in full protection mode, which is why she doesn’t hesitate to drag Aiden to safety, or she’s aware that his injuries aren’t as bad as Tyler’s / they’re not life threatening. A blow to the face will 9/10 knock you unconscious, regardless of how powerful the hit was. Taylor may have assumed that’s what had happened to Aiden, and she didn’t have time to second guess herself. She is done letting things harm her brother and friends. Anyways, her stepping into action grounds ashlyn and pulls her back to reality.

Also, this scene looks familiar doesn’t it? In the second image, the group was unable to control their emotions and were acting on pure adrenaline and feeling. Ashlyn is obviously experiencing a strong mix of fear, stress, and past trauma. If these two images are comparable, ashlyn mentally assuming/seeing the worst of the situation is not unusual.

Basically, I feel this event is exaggerated because ashyln is trying to cope with the situation. Understand that she is blaming herself for everything right now. Tyler flew out of the car just yesterday. She found him on tree just a few hours ago. She was the one who sedated him. She pulled him off the tree. She saw everything first hand, she felt the most guilty/responsible. Ashlyn has always been the one emphasizing how dangerous their situation is, but to finally see it happen right before your eyes is traumatic.

Aiden has been her main source of comfort since day 1, ashlyn has a soft spot for Aiden. He is her rock of support. So, after seeing Tyler’s ‘death’ and the affect it had on him irl, it’s not crazy to believe she is exaggerating watching Aiden ‘die’. It also makes sense because she’s watching it happen right before her eyes, while she only saw the aftermath of Tyler’s ‘death’. Ashlyn convinced herself Aiden died because she’s not in the right headspace / not mature enough to process it properly. None of them are.

I know a lot of people are speculating that the glitching effect + fliter is them shifting back into their reality since ashlyn said they only had 3 mins left, but I disagree. Lmk if that explaintion would intrest you lot.

again this is all just speculation that is quite underdeveloped. I just wanted to share it before I lost my train of thought. thank u for reading 😋

[jiminjeonging]

we talked a lot about jm "taking care" of mj, but im sure mj also put a lot of the effort to please km despite her being bottomtron 3000...

bottomtron 3000😭😭😭 well yes! ofc she takes care of jm too! despite me infantilizing the fuck out of mj I actually believe they're switches with jm prefering to be top and mj prefering to be bottom! I just can talk more about mj getting topped in every situation because thats how my brain works I fear.

as mj said multiple times, shes not good with words so she shows how much she cares with actions such as cooking, buying gifts etc. I firmly believe when they first started to fuck jm was weird about getting touched, she felt like she didn't deserve the pleasure and thought it made it somehow ok, less sinful, if mj was the only one getting something out of this. it went on like this for a while, jm leaving mj alone in bed to go and shower while mj hugging to her pillow, convincing herself she is content with this. she wasn't though. as the comeback preparations start, they have less time to fuck and for the times they end up tangled in sheets, jm is uncharacteristically rough. mj wants to ask whats up with her but it is so hard to get a word out of her mouth when it comes to bed stuff and its not like mj is complaining about it, shes just concerned.

it dawns to mj that jm is just stressed the fuck out when the older girl kicks a water bottle during dance practice after making a simple mistake. she offers her a massage once they go back to dorms. jm seems a little surprised by the question but greatfully nods. once she gets her shoulders to relax, mj says as a leader she knows shes under a lot of pressure and asks her 'will you let me take care of you unnie?' she continues to rub her shoulders as jm considers the offer then the girl hesitantly says, 'yes.'

jm is so stiff under her touch at first, she is not ready to get naked under the girl so mj puts her hand beneath her shirt and gently kneads jm's breasts, she elicits the most beautiful whines as a response. jm comes from someone elses touch for the first time that night with rubbing onto mj's thigh.

after that night they slowly work through jm's guilt and boundaries. she starts to lose articles of clothing as they progress, she lets mj actually touch her, finger her, eat her out and she starts to be more open about her wants too. like when mj is on her, she guides the girl where she needs her the most without feeling shame.

[charlottepuddingsposts]

🎒, 🍄 and 🧣for sumire!

hi mel! thanks for the questions and have a great day!! I tried to do something different with design this time

🎒 (backpack) - What items does your oc usually carry? Do they have a bag or just keep everything in their pockets? Do they carry a lot or a little?

well, sumire's not a huge fan of big bags, they're kind of a hassle for her, honestly. instead, she prefers a small, cute shoulder bag. inside, she usually keeps the essential stuff - her wallet, phone, small notebook, a pencil case, and some snacks, just in case. she doesn't like carrying extra things, so her bag is pretty light. but sometimes, when she's feeling a bit more adventurous, she'll throw in a book or some flower seeds.

🍄 (mushroom) - Does your character like being in nature or do they prefer the indoors? Do they have any outdoor hobbies like camping or fishing? If they prefer the indoors, why?

sumire's absolutely obsessed with nature. she loves being outside, surrounded by trees and flowers, it's like her happy place. she could spend hours just sitting by the river, listening to the birds chirping, or walking through a forest, feeling all that fresh air and the calming sounds of nature. and yeah, she definitely has outdoor hobbies like gardening and going for long walks. there's something about being in nature that just makes her heart full and content. but don't get her wrong, she still loves spending time indoors studying and caring for her plants.

🧣(scarf) - What comforts your oc? Is it an item? An action? A person? Whatever it is, how any why does it comfort them?

she is totally into cozy and comfortable things. sumire’s got this favourite blanket - it's super soft and fluffy, like wrapping herself in a big warm hug. sitting under the blanket with a warm drink and just zoning out is like her ultimate stress-reliever. and it's not just physical comforts she seeks, sometimes a simple "everything's gonna be okay" from someone she cares about really calms her nerves.

divider credit @/cafekitsune